There's nobody that cares enough to look past my career,
Even I don't give a **** about the far future or near.
I am waiting for the day that I can get drunk off my rear,
If it saves a life, go ahead and put me to the spear.
Definitely not suicidal, that hotline's not my speed dial.
The evil's really there, but I'm the one who's even more vile.
My fam and friends love me, too bad the hate is deafening.
If you really wanna help me then be more than just threatening.
Can't walk with pride, so I crawl. Society's centipede.
seventy percent chance that I won't live to see seventy.
My heart plenty big, but plenty dark. My bullet biting thoughts mostly small, cause it's all bark.
But I am always down to get together, hang out at the park whenever.
Maybe even spark a little, save these memories for forever.
Keeps me and my homies tethered down, weather won't catch us now.
May not see right past this fog, but I see through you now.
It's the easy path to label all problems under depression,
no one wants proper treatment, but prefer smoke sessions.
Then you think you learned your lesson, underneath it's all digression.
Takes you at least a year to break down and start confession.
It poisons me to see my friends fade into strangers with problems,
only thing you can do is relate and say "Amen".
Why did you ignore omens? My door was wide open,
but then again I have my problems that I don't cope with.