Truth is, I'm depressed All this shit leaves me distressed and people say that God has me blessed? Who would've guessed? No wonder I'm always so stressed, people telling me to try my best, I'm putting more effort in than the rest, rest of my old crew but I digress. Every day I care less and less, my life's a mess. People say that someday comes success, but I ain't seen any signs yet? Me dying alone is where I put my bet, and when I die, cover me with a blanket in the coffin bed. Put a pillow underneath my head, treat me like I'm asleep again. I guess if it were the end, invite any family or friend, and don't waste yout money on a burial, donate me to science, I got plenty of body to lend. Look, I don't have much to complain about, that doesn't mean that I've run out. My feet hurt, my family's racist, and I hate them for that, the only person who wasn't that I loved was my Dad. Now he's gone and people ask why I'm so sad? Well loss can drive someone innocent mad, just show them the world's unfair and so fucking bad. Well, I'm glad, glad that atleast I know life is like one very long, unskippable ad. Well, I could always power off myself, just pick up the 9mm off my stepfather's shelf. Man, I'm not inane I am in pain. I ain't insane, I'm not inhumane, I don't snort cocaine or guzzle champagne, but I got an image to sustain, it's gotta remain. Rapping is your city, but it is my terrain, I'll cut into my vein, shoot myself in the head so I can look at my brain. Pop! Like propane, sorry if this is profane. I'm baptizing myself in a fucking hurricane, this is the end of my reign, my life was lost but nothing was gained, I'll jump into an oncoming train, I'll cut myself again and again with shards from a shattered glass pane, life is like a sofa and I am a stain, maybe I should relax and hit up the Mary Jane? Time to die like Mrs. and Mr. Wayne, but the joke's on you, if I'm going down I'm taking you haters too, it's the least I could do, I'll bust your cranium open in two, my blood is as red as my life is blue, damn right I am cuckoo, this is some payback way past due, anyways back to me being hurt deep down inside, I'm not sad, it's depression. People ridicule me for my overbearing aggression but I ain't the one starting the transgression, ain't my fault I taught those pricks a lesson, if I tell you to fuck off don't think I'm messin', 'cause if you don't back off you're gonna need more than. God's blessin', but rapping is like MY therapy session, all these bars I spit and the drawings I'm sketchin', guess I am a dead man, nah I'm a dead man walkin', bet'cha saw that comin', but you ain't never gonna see me runnin' I'm going in swinging till' I'm done in, life is like playing the guitar but my fingers are sore from strummin', y'know what I'm breaking this guitar, breaking it like my prison bars, breakin' it like the window on a car, breakin' it like a pickle jar, shootin' it like a fuckin' shooting star.