Excerpt:

Yeah it's about 3 AM
But here I lay awake again
I was so calm, not restless eh
Life should be good
So why can't I sleep anyways?

Verse 1:

I grumble and fumble on my empty thoughts
Yet, don't understand why my heart aches, tumbles and drops
It seems like I am in my best of regards
Though I am all intact, I somewhat feel several broken shards

Is there a way, in which I could describe my day?
Well, it wasn't black or white, seem to start a little less than alright
But got better not worse, in fact I guarantee first
That I was living in a land of a creativity jurisdiction

No longer a fiction, but a terrible addiction to this stupid rapping game
I sure wish I could shake my name cause I definitely feel alittle ashamed
That I am just a lowlife nut job, who's forgot,
How to give blow jobs to a system in which I often feel enslaved to
But that's not new, I am just a little more than blue,
And sometimes solar, it's true,
I know how to tie my shoes, but my mind fucks me up
and I can't really do nothing about it but boo hoo my own stupid boo boos
Golly, I so feel like doo doo

So here I write my poetic words to describe my situation
I am hoping once I vent that I would feel some elimination
Of waste of thoughts, enslavery shots my freedom down the drain
It's a shame cause every mother fucker feels meds will make me sane
Perhaps it will, but most likely it won't, cause at least
I ain't throwing myself in public making a fool out of my pain,
Ah yes, where the fuck are dem gains?
I am not trying to be so lame

Chorus: [Sound issues]

Do you feel my pain?
Oh wait that is only strains
Of my low life
Do or Die? Don't look alright?

Do you see a soldier?
Or a crazy spoiler?
I see a crime
Suicide? No it's a fight, denied

Verse 2:

With a hymm and a holler, why do I bother?
I know there is a father, who wants his son's coffer
I haven't won the lottery yet, nor do I apply to this offer
Cause to me I don't breathe well under water of cold hard cash

It would be great though to have a passion for something
Wish it was reality but I still seem to be stuck without mentality
So that is my fallacy on why I cannot live a galaxy of luxurious restructuring

Yep, that is my story and lecturing
It's not a hypothesis, or a synonym for a guess
It's just that I often don't feel very blessed
But I did put a rope around my head, and I tried them 7 antipsychotic meds,
But all I could see was me facing red, and rather still put myself out of dread

Or how about them mood stabilizers, they would work I bet?
I thought they were suppose to allow me to aspire or hire me with success?
But all it did was cause me to undress cause I was always tired,
I was no liar just had to fight the sick feelings underfire,
And them sleeping pills had me mired so I conspired
And ran my lawnmower I bought on highway 61 shirtless,
For all its worth, I was greatly tersed for better or for worse
All I kept thinking was the sign I made, so I could get paid,
It said mentally insane, need cash so as every car passed
I made it last even though I looked like an ass. I ask,

Chorus:

Do you feel my pain?
Oh wait that is only strains
Of my low life
Do or Die? Don't look alright?

Do you see a soldier?
Or a crazy spoiler?
I see a crime
Suicide? No it's a fight, denied

Do you feel my pain?
Oh wait that is only strains
Of my low life
Do or Die? Don't look alright?