Self Rust

When I can’t touch what I believe in, life itself seems to loose it’s sense of purpose and reason. Cause I am (x2)

Alone, rejected, neglected, confused, abused, used, infused into a system where people lose - what It was that life was worth living for, I give it my all, but every time I turn around my back’s against the wall. I’m living, I’m giving, I’m trying, I’m lying, I’m dieing under the pressure from what it takes just to simply survive in this world war outside of my front door, where boots step on the necks of the wretched and poor. With people struggling, job juggling, hustling, stumbling to believe despite the things they perceive, and this bleeds into the rhythm of life causing a schism of strife, imprisoning vision with prisms that reflect living as trife. I’m, livin this lifetime twisted by what I resisted because I enlisted to change minds. I’m alienated and self segregated by my depression and the disparity that the system’s created

god forbid you should know this pain that colors the blood in your veins, and tears the heart muscle under it’s strain (x2 *maybe 4 w/ last two lowered volume & remainder said over top) its these times, its distrust, it’s the self doubt that leads to self rust

i don’t know who I am sometimes but I know that when I be writing these rhymes I be right in these lines, right in these times, wrong or right son’s fighting to shine cause I’m confined in the dark and the light be the rhyme, and I’m nothing more nothing less than this struggle, this stress, this flesh, this pain, this heart, this breath, tainted with the scent of regret for things that I’d like to forget but I aint met a bottle strong enough to kill that yet. Guess I’m just another brother no different from any other who’s been smothered by what he keeps undercover. And it’s not a surprise cause it’s been poorly disguised none of my lies could hide what all these years have done to my eyes. I need to cry but I can’t and when I get close I always seem to push away the people that I love the most. I don’t know what it is I guess I’m just another one of those kids who thought that love was something that you kept hid

god forbid you should know this pain that colors the blood in your veins, and tears the heart muscle under it’s strain it’s these times, it’s distrust, it’s the self doubt that leads to self rust

No one could’ve told me that I would have turned out like this, alive at 25 with scars on the wrist, still raising the fist. Rapping and shit, digging in the dark and finding parts of my heart that I didn’t even know could exist. I just try to persist in this but if you know what I’m talking bout then you know that life can be hit or miss. Depression’s a bitch and then you die, or so I thought, or at least so I tried. So many days that I wanted to try but couldn’t, so many nights that I wanted to die but wouldn’t, I took two boxes of d-con, I slit my wrist and turned the gas on but this son still dawned. Scarred but transformed, fallen but reborn, and my religion is living even though I’m still given to wrong, I live life one day at a time and try to put the pieces back together with the strength of the rhyme

god forbid you should know this pain that colors the blood in your veins, and tears the heart muscle under it’s strain, it’s these times, it’s distrust, it’s the self doubt that leads to self rust