“..i believe music is begging to be made and that it has power to create..”

lemme set the scene
tryna get ahead of things
already seen just about everything
that i never dreamed
Vicodin Percocet codeine promethazine
graduate to H and benzo
that’s the recipe
just to get that nod
tolerance got the best of me
voluntarily marry what will probably
be the death of me
best friends said i’m bout to fall off desperately
turn around flip em all off as i’m exiting
yeah i’m some friend
i can count it all on one hand
how many times i’ve been there
for someone till the storm end
walking in the rain soak and wet
slumped in a shoe box full of dirty rigs
i used to keep my 1’s in
death and misery
keep some company with em
takes more than a taste
to get comfortable with em
heavy baggage on a death trip
caught in the middle
if you ain’t been there before
you probably lost in the riddle
ok lemme explain
on to the next thang
close your eyes
kinda extreme not no x games
but not unlike eating shit on a deck
pained by a buncha wounds
fresh stains and some chest pains
my nerves badd
i was really an addict
couldn’t hear you through the chaos
plenty of static
chasing carrots on a stick
i’m the silliest rabbit
might end up in a stew
by all the industry standards
probably where the chorus should go
but i ain’t finished yet
barely in the game
haven’t started any scrimmage yet
tryna locate the pain
where the trauma intersect
only word of mouth
haven’t finished any sentence yet

wade through the mud
tryna catch a ray
maybe bathe in the sun
tryna get a taste
got fangs in the blood
we don’t age
we were raised in the flood
made a place in it
yea yea yea
pray for the love
if you tryna save face
then just pray for the plug
tryna get a taste
it’s the chase not the buzz
we don’t rage
we just wait for the flood
we were raised in it

you can catch me drowning everyday
for like 10 years straight
hard to keep my head in any sincere space
self sabotage and pretend it’s fate
belt around the arm like a 26 inch snake
maybe make a baby while i’m this lake
but wait get off tour
say she six weeks late
barely known her 6 months
in an empty space
how ima ever be a father
sick in this weak state
i wasn’t running from hell
i was living in it
fetishizing punishing myself
just to kill a minute
pun intended
thought i’d really wanna end it
even typed a text out
but i ain’t really wanna send it
i was in bad place down bad
tears of a clown mask
you ain’t got ask i’ll tell you
why i don’t sound mad
lucky i wasn’t already dead
where i was found at
nobody wanna be around that
wounds licked clean
bandage tightly wound
heavy heads wear the crown
so i pawned it for a brown bag
i’m a profound drag
bring em down fast
going underground
deep down where they scrounge at