I don’t write my rhymes to rap I write my rhymes to free my mind.
But once my mind is free, sometimes it gets so hard to find.
What will become of me is something that I’d hate to be.
I sit alone by myself and wonder why god is hating me.
Everybody makes mistakes, they make mistakes that ain’t pleasin.
I make half of my mistakes, the others happen for no reason.
I have no license, have no car, and I have no permit.
My life’s down the drain, I’m 17 and don’t even work yet.
I’ll tell the truth about me, I’ve tried hittin a cigarette.
I don’t do it cause of addiction, I just want a quicker death.
I have a lot of problems, and I try to learn my lesson.
I also try to fix my issues and I still live life in depression.
How can things get so right but my life can be so wrong.
People say enjoy the world, well it’s a place I don’t belong.
I would die for my family, I would die in endless pain.
I would die being a hero just so people would hear my name.
I wanna live my dream, but it’s out of sight now.
If I could go and fix my past I would do it right now.