there’s somethin funny going on up in this house
check the front, now the windows, see? the lights are out
no one’s home, just us voices, extra extroverted noises
just the other people in your head making you regret your choices
it’s just us bonus mouths to feed and sometimes hands to hold
we hope you hear us when we say this covert thing is getting kinda old

we got drones in Jersey
drones in LA
are they from the future
are they here to stay

are they comin' from the sea
or comin' from the sky
were they made in deep space
or is it just a lie

re-engineering
that is all the rage
shake us up
shake us down
keep us in a cage

they're playin' us like fiddles
where can truth be found?
multi-million dollar jets
but they can't shoot one down!

what a huge calamity
what a sorry joke
this mega scam will soon unfold
like pepsi vs coke

don't buy it!

I read your text
and it kind
of hurt me,
I don’t know
what happens next
Or what lies you said
In your circle,
Planning to **** me twice,
That ain’t nice—

Every time
I think of you,
I’m on the brink,
bout to sink fast—
Nah scratch that—
Or maybe not—
Mind’s a maze
When I rewind
To the tapes of
Moments left
broken

When you
called me back,
Wantin’ to
make amends,
I hesitate cuz
you had a
plan to manipulate,
Suffocate me with
Unsolved karma,
Throw salt on my
Mistakes,
Then go crying
to your mama—
Like I’m Freddy
in your nightmares—
Trauma!
Thinking she
got advise,
A hotline for lies,
She ain’t curing your—
Drama!

I just wanna escape,
You still hold onto
The hate,
Throw me
back onstage,
Bout to break me—
Spotlight blazing shame,
Feeling the flames
Burning my fate—
crossed my name out—

Oh no,
Here goes
my fat ex,
Driving in a
Fedex truck,
Shipping hate,
like it’s Christmas Day,
Almost got me fed up!
About to ****** the
messenger
with a bullet
But I cut the
*******—

What a sitcom!
Yeah you’re the star,
Playing games
with my brain
Acting like you’re
the villain
with a monologue
and a backstory,
round of applause,
You tore me apart—
I got some scars!
I was friends
with a monster—

Trust was shattered—
a prop show,
A joke at first,
But ends up
being a war—
A **** show…

But I’m still
standing,
spitting bars,
Flipping scripts
on the spot,
Writing you off
Like you never existed
In the first place—
In a space,
where I can’t erase,
But I can embrace,
You fading away.

Indigo—
It was nice
to know you,
But I’m done,
gotta go,
Hope you don’t grow
bitter and older,
But **** that,
I ain’t wishing
you luck—

I’m not cold-hearted,
I’m just getting colder
With a fractured heart—
Gotta find myself hope—
And when I do,
I’ll be the
one to open
it.

unlovable heart with a lot of love to give  in
no one still born to perceive it
black heart ;still not beating
locked in my room screaming and dreaming
getting this **** in

parallel universe where
i don't get beaten
by the birth givers that really didn't mean it
Man emienem is all I got ;
apart from this half pound of ***
that will make my blood here clot
stuck in a lousy hospital
ain't got the cheddar to em back
money and fame ain't all I lack
Don't even have my parents to have my back.

i met this woman with nice ol' heart
but maybe all these problems
is just gonna make us grow apart
But i really wanna love you man
just give me a shot ,
just a chance and maybe a dance

Verse 1:
We try to find answers looking towards the sky
All wanna know what happens when we die
As much as I'd like to sprout wings and to the heavens fly
Ain't no halo reserved for me when I say goodbye
Long ago I once believed that lie
Misunderstanding losses
Asking why
Demanding a reason for grief in my heart
Only heard silence
Faith fell apart
Sometimes asked why it's so hard to believe
Say maybe the rest of the world is just too easy to deceive
It's true when they tell you ignorance is bliss
Truth isn't what we want to hear so instead we just dismiss

Hook:
If dying before I wake
Give the darkness my soul to take
Please do not cry
Know that I
Forever am thankful
If I die while I'm asleep
Soul I give the reapers to keep
I'm ready for my funeral

Verse 2:
Beneath the starlight contemplating life
Restless heart beating the question why
Wondering in Morse code if I will be all right
Stuck wandering line
Between wrong and right
But don't trust the route everybody else takes
Hear outside opinions about decisions I should make
In the end do what's best for my heart's sake
Eyes and ears will have to learn from my own mistakes
No matter how high flown eventually I'll fall
Mind is in a race with my feet
Both seem to hardly crawl
Below surface of my skin have trouble dealing with it all
Hanging hopes above my head until I crash into a brick wall

Hook x2

Outro:
I'm ready for
For the funeral x3
I'm ready for
Ready for it
Ready for the funeral

If all I see is grey, does any of it matter?
I see the world for what it is,
Gradually, it's only made me sadder.
Moral victories or being rich enough to fly to Saturn,
****, I've been thinking about the latter.
They say money can help do unthinkable things,
So what would you rather be: down to earth or outta here once the meteor hits?

I came from another world just to watch the eclipse,
Careful where you fall, 'cause reality slips.
Best believe when you come down,
Your choices are fixed.
Know that if you don't dumb down, the tables flip,
Sometimes what you have to say is so outta here
It's difficult to present the world with your gifts.
'Cause they're ill-prepared to realize that you're sick,
Slick enough to make it rain on 'em with nothing but a drip.

Man, I tried to get it so I could fit in, but I had to dead it.
As I grew up, all I knew was that this pad and pen is
My escape from everything I've set aside,
'Cause when I jot my little rhymes, the only time I feel alive.
I know my mind's much organized,
And not a moment passes by
When the roles I've played align.
But as I'm piecing these components, this becomes the closest for a poet just to cope with all that agonized.
Yo! You can't philosophize if you're avoiding the sunlight.
My soul disperses all these verses, hoping that each line could shed some light.
We're all alike, here's my advice: put some work in,
Don't forget you're still a person.
Learn to get immersed in what you love
Because the universe will draw your blood.

I write sometimes li̲ke I'm out for
blood (I kind of have been & am)
like vampires; tha[ɑ]t's for
all the injustice & violence absorbed
[video games, films, (& later) rap & politics-related stuff]
from this unjust & f#cked world
you may think I'm a kettle boiling, 'cause
writing rhymed texts & going hos—
—tile in 'em is a way to blow steam off
besI̲des that, I'm bored
like a plank that I̲ would, o[ʌ]f course
["board"]
not mind watching a ****** dumb war—
—mongering, power-drunk ****
walk off into the waters galore of hungry cro[ɑ]cs or
sharks, though I̲ would o[ɑ]pt for something much worse
if punishing power-corrupted schmucks were
up to mO̲I̲ with my warped
mind; like a drama queen, or a jihadi fiend
at a public spot with **̲[ɑ]stile in—
—tentions & a bomb, or a gun on him
I'd make such a scene
["sin"]
one tor—mentors would love to observe
one worth grabbing some ****** po[ɑ]pcorn
[like the one portrayed in "punishment of an autocrat"]
****** alert; the cynical fiend
inside wants to join this lyrical binge
give 'em *******, dude
————————————————————————————————
listen U̲p, you da[ɛ]mn fool
this message is also for the trap rap playschool
that you pU̲nk pertain to
consider yourself LIA 'cA̲U̲se you're plain doomed
[lost in action]
like an aircrA̲ft which is about
to crA̲sh into the ground (plane, doomed)
call thI̲s sh#t maltreatment
but don't get the joke twisted
saying that, like a wicked professor prone
to acquitting indecent, bold, I'ma teach you a lesson, ***
I don't mean you'll be a victim of *** assau[ɔ]lt
or something
["molltreatment"]
a lesson 'cause in this lyric-writing game, you
are as qualified as lame stewds
[stu(ew)dents]
you better find some da[ɛ]mn tools
'cause the screws of mine are cray loose
just like Deadpool's; memorize this name to
call me by: Slay Illsome
[Deadpool's real name is Wade Wilson]
you're like pup: so ****** tame you
should be called Lame Chillsome
["po[ɑ]p", in the sense of "pop music"]
so inept that holding somebO̲[ɑ]dy's dra[ɛ]nk, you'd
prob'ly wind up with the dra[ɛ]nk spilled, chump
I'm an instiller of awe & distaste
a thrill killer, nuts, A̲lthough well-trained
and I really like to slay noobs
I'll be enjoying some thrilling, high-octane tunes
while you'll be stricken by the grave blues
'cause I'll have you feeling such a pain you
are gon' wish it were Max 'stead of me & start to pray to
["Payne"; Max Payne, who mostly just guns down his targets]
me to put you down like I̲'m the type slinging
off at others; I'll I̲ce you by swinging
my ****** blade through
your neck like a batter, whereA̲fter I[ɑ]'ll pick
up your nut & make use
of it as a **** bA̲sketball, *****
I'll chop you in parts, then bo[ɑ]x 'em, like a way to
verbally tag an attrA̲ctive gal with
a set of plumply shaped *****
["buxom"]
I'll have the box wrapped a la gifts
and then get the remainders of you sE̲nt ta
a replantation-focused center
(so much for something with the littlest of spite...)
————————————————————————————————
like a substance a[ɑ]ddict
tryna quit but quickly sliding ba[ɑ]ckwards
one verse & I'm back to mY̲ bad ha[ɑ]bits
[the prelude]
of writing; like someone you wa[ɑ]nt, this art form
is something I sure have go[ɑ]t a lust for
which explains why
I'm sO̲ de—voted to my stuff when it's getting laid, like
a carnal co[ɑ]mmerce; lyrical self-indulgence, much more
than self-indulgent "I̲'ve got" type twerps
making unco[ɑ]mplicated trap
as if there were something like a cavy that
those diletta[ɑ]nti aim to catch
like someO̲ne depraved, I have (what?)
a ba[ɑ]wdy-like urge in my mI̲nd when I verse
like a tI̲ght-fit guise worn by a gal with nice curves
exercising, intention... of nailing rhyming
["in tension"]
as if rhymes were lush girls
the type to whom technical seduction comes first
lyrics-wise, which is why some of my works
may be regarded as hot stuff
like a heated iron flyi[—]ng to[—]ward
the face of a tyrant-like ****
with the bo[ɑ]ttom side forth; do this kind of stuff for
fun & to maintain these mI̲nd skills I scored
["slay just to maintain some relish & killing skills"]
which explains why I dub it "bar sport"
[sport/fun of making bars (rhymed lines)]
you trap rap hacks ou[ɑ]ght to ha[ɑ]ve your
bars shA̲rp just like swords of samurais, for
["sharp" in the sense of "stylish"/"attractive"]
as I̲'ve said afore, I'm O̲U̲t for blood, twerps
————————————————————————————————
struck this "bar sport" writing up short
["bar sport (prelude)" followed by this one]
on hope, wound up with a flood of thou[ɑ]ghts versed (wow)
guess this writer's inner fire's no[ɑ]t burned... out
like someone dO̲ne too much work