The Mask
Posted: Wed Aug 10, 2011 4:01 am
Lately I've been feelin full of hypocrisy
Pass up my dreams for Facebook while every moment is watchin me, and
I feel a little fake when I'm rappin and talkin street, I
Don't got a lot of shit else, so this helps, you got it G?
I feel lost, don't know If I'm alive or not
Tryna jog my thoughts with nightly walks,
Guess that's why it's Writer's Block, cause
Sometimes,
I'm wonder why I got a cluttered mind..
But still, I'm tryna clean it out and give you butterflies
Every time, every rhyme, anything you play of mine
Wrong state of mind to let it go and let my fate decide
A girl asked me, "How you deal with all them endless thoughts?"
Just never get even, go against the odds
Only time that I ever heard God's voice
Was the pro-life part of my mom's choice
Dear kid, here's a life... better live it right
And I will fuck it up for you, so when you get a mic
You can tell the world
About all your pain
Then I'ma make you really rich and take it all away
All my days, I believed it
Until my mom would say,
"If God created life, then whatchyu call the gays?"
Think about it, dog... Shit ain't what it seem to be
There's a lot of things in life that we need to see
Thievery, bleedin streets, lots of weed, evil deeds
Speak and read, eat a peach, go to France, see the beach
People meet, couples kiss, I can't get enough of this
Make a CD, hopefully... make a couple hits
In my car, Kid Cudi explodin
Turnin streets, burnin more fuckin rubber than Trojans
I'm underground like Chile miners scared for their lives
Cause this ain't on the radio, I ain't the stereo type... son
This is real rap,
I'm about revealed facts
Unlocked the chain to my steel mask, and
Find that everything is cluttered inside
But when my mask is off, I can't do nothin but rhyme
Pass up my dreams for Facebook while every moment is watchin me, and
I feel a little fake when I'm rappin and talkin street, I
Don't got a lot of shit else, so this helps, you got it G?
I feel lost, don't know If I'm alive or not
Tryna jog my thoughts with nightly walks,
Guess that's why it's Writer's Block, cause
Sometimes,
I'm wonder why I got a cluttered mind..
But still, I'm tryna clean it out and give you butterflies
Every time, every rhyme, anything you play of mine
Wrong state of mind to let it go and let my fate decide
A girl asked me, "How you deal with all them endless thoughts?"
Just never get even, go against the odds
Only time that I ever heard God's voice
Was the pro-life part of my mom's choice
Dear kid, here's a life... better live it right
And I will fuck it up for you, so when you get a mic
You can tell the world
About all your pain
Then I'ma make you really rich and take it all away
All my days, I believed it
Until my mom would say,
"If God created life, then whatchyu call the gays?"
Think about it, dog... Shit ain't what it seem to be
There's a lot of things in life that we need to see
Thievery, bleedin streets, lots of weed, evil deeds
Speak and read, eat a peach, go to France, see the beach
People meet, couples kiss, I can't get enough of this
Make a CD, hopefully... make a couple hits
In my car, Kid Cudi explodin
Turnin streets, burnin more fuckin rubber than Trojans
I'm underground like Chile miners scared for their lives
Cause this ain't on the radio, I ain't the stereo type... son
This is real rap,
I'm about revealed facts
Unlocked the chain to my steel mask, and
Find that everything is cluttered inside
But when my mask is off, I can't do nothin but rhyme