So I guess the worlds really this harsh, little kids dying just watching them starve it sickens me. Another kid with some nice bars, listen to my words and be enlighted by past scars. Cause’ I have many things resting in my mind. I am refined I’m incomplete just give me some time. Couple devils in me and they strive to stay on their prime but these dimes keep me at peace and I leave, to my inner peace zone where I zone to the pussy and some weed smoke. I puff until I stay blown. With the sounds of saxophones and a bitch who moans, so amazed when you see me step up to the microphone. Who would of thought such talent in a young dude, maybe cause’ he had mad inspiration by doom. Now listen and feel moved, had some fake friends please excuse trust issues feeling better as a person cause’ I’ve improved. But can you tell me why I’m living, what’s my purpose what is missing. Why do I feel so unforgiving? Chilling with my eyes low, pour some dirty sprite now I’m feeling throwed my vision slowed I cop a cup of gold feed it to the ancient gods who oppose I suppose that’s how the ancient stories were foretold. But that’s how it starts with activity, getting better like the salamance hidden ability. And the possibility of me using a utility to defend myself is like 1 in 7 like 1 vs. 7 but life’s harsh smoke the resin flow into another dimension instead of heaven. And throw some sessions with your henchmen destroy the tension and gain friends without objection. And then end perfection, and then end perfection