August 1st, 2006 - Journal
Hot as hell, trapped in a cell, oh, what the hell? Does anyone have bail? I'm in hell! My veins on my head, swell, and I don't even care. PAIN? What is it anyway? It's only brain waves. Keepin me stuck in this maze feeling crazed. But, anyways, head thataway>cause I'm confused.
vocabulary - Just freestyle
August 1st, 2006 - Verbally Capable To Hold The Crown(yeah right-one syllable wonder)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's fucken pouring out.
I know I went the wrong route.
So I scream and shout, "THE DEMON WON'T LET ME OUT?".
So I pray to the thunder clouds.
It rains, and it pours.
While the sweat pours from under my scars.
Leaves it looken like the goals are just, to far.
Not up to par.
In this game I'm just to sore to open up any doors.
Praying on all fours.
Life Is CRAZY!
Visions Hazy!
Confusion clouds the mind, but never lazy.
Outside it's hazing.
I should be out in the rain, getting reigned on.
Rapping, I'm leaving hell.
Hope to be packing it up to find a new place to live.
Just hand me the mic.
Fiending to walk in on dykes.
I speak from the soul of this 40oz.
And after I speak I'm gonna hafta fucken bounce and smoke an Oz.
Of Dro.
To be at my show.
I'll be feeling the flow.
Of words that cold as snow.
#1. Block out every obstacle you face; hecklers, doubters, haters. BECOME! Don't hesitate bourders? It's up to you.
Battle>opponent, using words as fists.
August, 2006 - Poem called, "NEGATIVE SELF SPEAKING"
(I'm)You're nothing but an addict. Real pathetic. Eye's blackened, bagged from stress and static. You can't hack it. Since age five, plagued with nervousness. Poverty strickened and penniless. Family dysfunctions got you feeling merciless. Bounced around from school to school, didn't pay attention, now who's the fool, YOU(me)! Choice! <a sad, sad, song> Making them all wrong. 25 years old, been losing far for to long. A loser, I am! An everything "bad" abuser. An outward blame, accuser. Stressed and mental from being a psycho. Darkness consumed and numb from failure toons. Isolated, from self hatred, torn apart, and bruised. No friends; frustrated, No girlfriend, no Love, alone lonely in my lonesome room. Stuck in my own mental prison, I'm the warden, judge and jury, and why can't I get me to let me out? Grim Reaper will surely show up soon. Many times other, he had. A mommas boy that can't take care of his own, SELF! Masochism, really scared, you are MENTAL! Health? Parents divorced, your life got worse. Try to pray to the cross, "Please show me remorse." From this storm.
<RHYME JOURNAL NOTES>August, 2006.
<NOTES>When am I gonna see if I can survive the hard times? The ones ahead of the ones behind...
<NOTES>Now I sit here, disgusted. Want the right to end this fight. Another sleepless night. Gotta end it(life). But not until life begins(never give up). GOD forgive my sins. *REPENT* Let me win... Help me, so I can help you... I'm no fool, I'm just fatally bruised, heart blackened and bluend.
<NOTES>So I'm here to gain. Tryen to just maintain. I pray throughout the rain. Rain keeps me sane. Need to work on this brain. And I seek a rush. An adrenalin rush, till I see my blood gush. In the mirror, I blush. Right and write, I don't give a fuck. read and read, gain more knowledge, I need it!
FROM THE YEAR 2002: 21 years young, son. Worked hard for these guns, son. Corny birthday song, sung. But you will have fun. If you got a girlfriend and friends, hang 10. You're the man with the master plan in ya hand, wave the wand, cause you're fearless, and you take stands. You be drowning in a sea of protein, you are, "a protein fiend". No longer a stick twig teen. Got protein, fats, and carbs on your team, and in your blood stream. Supreme, lean. Working hard on them dreams. Hit them weights with a mean gleam....... Best friend, my gift to you? In your backyard, it's a protein laying hen. So drive your benz to that gym in the sky. Never ask why? Don't cry. I'll see you at the gym, goodbye.
So let me feed on it? It's my ultimate weirdo chip of pure, raw, genius. Just let the phrases rip, so it's so real, people will feel this shit.
Thanx for reading, these are some really insane, negative, profane writings from 2006, now it's 2013. I've changed, fully *Reborned* by *The GODZ*, got my soul/self back - BLURrrr
Saturday, November 2, 2013
BLURRY POETRY FROM THE PAST(2006): "SELF DISS IN THE RAIN STORM" and "DRANK TANK"-Alcoholic Short Poem
Head phones, cause I'm a drone, that has traveled into territories unknown, fell off the throne, witch spelled into a funky, spunky, no homed gnome.
The purpose of these old negative, profanity filled writings are to show how true, *Hopelessness to Redemption* really is. I was a real, lost, dead soul back then, and had to fight with everything I've got for the passed 7 years to get my soul back, but I could've just stopped the fight and surrendered to *THE GODZ*
2006-"SELF DISS IN THE RAIN STORM"
You're nothing but an addict filled with panic.
Whole life is pathetic, to fucken manic.
Bags under my eyes from stress and static.
Looken to escape with another hit-(heroin).
You make yourself sick.
Since five you've held onto the crown of nervousness.
You don't even exist, like the Loch Ness.
Never had a cent to your name; you're poor.
All us losers are the same; soul torn.
To sinful, filled with scorn, a fucken spawn.
Bad grades, never worked a single day.
You're brother hates you, you're dad never sees you.
It's thundering out now, I scream and shout, "WHERE IS GOD?", he never said life would be so hard.
I sit in the rain storm, 'BRAIN STORM!!!!!' Toughen it out thru the rains storm.
I'm here to start beef.
Cause I don't want to live.
But I don't want to hurt no more.
I want to die!
Don't be surprised!
I guess you didn't look deep enough into these eyes.
Sinners Rise.............
Then Fall...........
And fuck no-it-all's.
I hope they burn in hell with the rest ah yall.
You got gall.
But I'm the one that got the balls.
Standing Tall.
2006-An Alcoholic Short Poem: "DRANK TANK"
Feeling guilty that I drank.
It's like walking the plank.
Stabbing my self with a sure shank.
Could I be anymore frank?
My future's looken blank.
I'm emotionally built like an immobilized tank.
My ship has sank.
I'm soulless and I hold NO rank.
I feel like robbing a bank.
Revenge feeling like a prank.
My style is stank.
I should get spanked by a hot chick willing to wank.
The purpose of these old negative, profanity filled writings are to show how true, *Hopelessness to Redemption* really is. I was a real, lost, dead soul back then, and had to fight with everything I've got for the passed 7 years to get my soul back, but I could've just stopped the fight and surrendered to *THE GODZ*
2006-"SELF DISS IN THE RAIN STORM"
You're nothing but an addict filled with panic.
Whole life is pathetic, to fucken manic.
Bags under my eyes from stress and static.
Looken to escape with another hit-(heroin).
You make yourself sick.
Since five you've held onto the crown of nervousness.
You don't even exist, like the Loch Ness.
Never had a cent to your name; you're poor.
All us losers are the same; soul torn.
To sinful, filled with scorn, a fucken spawn.
Bad grades, never worked a single day.
You're brother hates you, you're dad never sees you.
It's thundering out now, I scream and shout, "WHERE IS GOD?", he never said life would be so hard.
I sit in the rain storm, 'BRAIN STORM!!!!!' Toughen it out thru the rains storm.
I'm here to start beef.
Cause I don't want to live.
But I don't want to hurt no more.
I want to die!
Don't be surprised!
I guess you didn't look deep enough into these eyes.
Sinners Rise.............
Then Fall...........
And fuck no-it-all's.
I hope they burn in hell with the rest ah yall.
You got gall.
But I'm the one that got the balls.
Standing Tall.
2006-An Alcoholic Short Poem: "DRANK TANK"
Feeling guilty that I drank.
It's like walking the plank.
Stabbing my self with a sure shank.
Could I be anymore frank?
My future's looken blank.
I'm emotionally built like an immobilized tank.
My ship has sank.
I'm soulless and I hold NO rank.
I feel like robbing a bank.
Revenge feeling like a prank.
My style is stank.
I should get spanked by a hot chick willing to wank.
BLURRY WRITINGZ, STRAIT FROM THE NOTEBOOK(2006): "Double horned War Lord(poem about the devil)", and Journal About Moms X-boyfriend(kinda)
pseudo? win? I can't fail cause there nothing to? faster than Jackie Chan?
Written strait from my notebook, 2006:
Double Horned War Lord:
The double horned warlord; ENEMY OF GOD!
Holy Warrior, Bounty hunter(I be)!
Recruiting Evil(that damn, dirty, devil)!
Fight Fire with Fire(Aries)!
Triple Six(Mark of the beast)!
Functioning like a well oiled machine...
The devil? Yeah, me and him, that shit is personal(hatred of evil).
I'm coming thru with a vengeance, of a NEW level.
The triple six on his head, and his horns, got me feeling obligation from *GOD*.
I'm here to fight the war, not take an easy route(never sold my soul).
Lucifer and his army shall be singled out.
The devils greatest trick; convincing the world he didn't exist.
BODY, mind, soal(misspelling)
Physical, mental, spiritual
(it appears that I held the physical more important than the spiritual back then)
[Who knows the exact purpose of this(Life Is A BLUR), BUT! Even as a lost soul back then, I still kept my *Faith* in *Holiness*.]
2006-Journal about my Moms (evil) X-boyfriend, Tom:
(He)Yelling at my Mom, this(Tom) b!tch is crazy.
(He)Taking the car to steal beer.
Wish he would've got caught.
My anger gets the best of me.
It begot me!
Can't you see that I'm not what I seem to be?
After all, we got to make it.
Life's to short!
And the clock tics(endlessly).
Second, after second, it never stops.
Got me burning up, feeling to hot.
To think.
My thoughts race.
Back and fourth they pace.
I'm never left in peace, so I got use to pain(so I thought).
Who's to blame? ME!
I know this, and that's what hurts the most.
Let us make a toast to all I lost(my soul).
With nothing gained.
Self torture.
Just let it rain on my parade. I feel the shame.
So fu(k stress relief.
Written strait from my notebook, 2006:
Double Horned War Lord:
The double horned warlord; ENEMY OF GOD!
Holy Warrior, Bounty hunter(I be)!
Recruiting Evil(that damn, dirty, devil)!
Fight Fire with Fire(Aries)!
Triple Six(Mark of the beast)!
Functioning like a well oiled machine...
The devil? Yeah, me and him, that shit is personal(hatred of evil).
I'm coming thru with a vengeance, of a NEW level.
The triple six on his head, and his horns, got me feeling obligation from *GOD*.
I'm here to fight the war, not take an easy route(never sold my soul).
Lucifer and his army shall be singled out.
The devils greatest trick; convincing the world he didn't exist.
BODY, mind, soal(misspelling)
Physical, mental, spiritual
(it appears that I held the physical more important than the spiritual back then)
[Who knows the exact purpose of this(Life Is A BLUR), BUT! Even as a lost soul back then, I still kept my *Faith* in *Holiness*.]
2006-Journal about my Moms (evil) X-boyfriend, Tom:
(He)Yelling at my Mom, this(Tom) b!tch is crazy.
(He)Taking the car to steal beer.
Wish he would've got caught.
My anger gets the best of me.
It begot me!
Can't you see that I'm not what I seem to be?
After all, we got to make it.
Life's to short!
And the clock tics(endlessly).
Second, after second, it never stops.
Got me burning up, feeling to hot.
To think.
My thoughts race.
Back and fourth they pace.
I'm never left in peace, so I got use to pain(so I thought).
Who's to blame? ME!
I know this, and that's what hurts the most.
Let us make a toast to all I lost(my soul).
With nothing gained.
Self torture.
Just let it rain on my parade. I feel the shame.
So fu(k stress relief.
BLURRY POETRY from 2006: Just how far gone I was, but I was way further gone. "NEVER GIVE UP" and "BAH HUMBUG"
Poem called, "NEVER GIVE UP"
I do what I want. Whenever I want. And let's talk about needs; I need to bleed. Cause I'm use to pain.
It's nothing new to me, flash it in front of me, I DON'T CARE! Cause I'm my worst enemy, and I've survived myself, so I think I'll survive you. And I'll write passed carpal tunnel syndrome sinkin in.
Pain motivates me. It's like pain toppled with a few strong shots of caffeine, it wakes me up. Come up on life, so abrupt. Cause the beats will come. They will run, and run, till they reach the Sun, cause I need this, I just need some good ole fashioned guidance, that's all. It's hard to do it on your own.
The whole purpose is to own the throne; power and money, enough to blow, put on a show and get people hyped about life, cause adrenalin is my vice. And I take, more and more, tolerance I ignore, cause the strength makes you smooth, to where you know you can't lose, just prove, to yourself. Keep a solid bill of health. Came out your life like a stealth and come thru with a vengeance. The shady side won't risk immenseness.
[Can't believe how fixated on money and power I was back then? But I know that I meant well, but was just so lost and confused]
A Poem called, "BAH HUMBUG" June 26th, 2006:
The check didn't come! It never does?
So what the fu(k do I do? Freak out? Throw a rut?
I 'HATE' the temptation of relieving this stress.
But I must learn how to deal with this, until my death...
Look at my deck of cards I've been dealt?
Shit don't look so bright!
Feeling good ain't as simple as flying a kite.
I just might make it, or I just might throw a fit.
But no matter what happens, this is some real shit.
Cause life is fu(ked up.
But I try to laugh.
I crave that power!
And want that cash...
I'm alienated.
Have a fu(ked up past.
If you want to judge me you can kiss my ass.
I'LL BE BURIED UPSIDE DOWN!
And disciplines rising.
And my strength is MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My training is sick.
The pain, I must have. It's what I'm use to.
And at times, it feels beautiful.
Full Of Faith; being a warrior takes getting use to.
Life turning sour.
Feeling drained of power.
But when it comes back? Revenge is in the path that I take.
Cause I'm angry, and this shit is personal.
Take the war to new heights.
My politicals is versatile.
Cause morals should be allowed.
Don't let me see you break them.
This the mind of a true zen warrior.
[I have no clue what was going thru my head during this, BUT! And I apologize for the cursing, this is how far gone I was, and thru shear faith, we can change.]
Thanx for reading, BLUR.
I do what I want. Whenever I want. And let's talk about needs; I need to bleed. Cause I'm use to pain.
It's nothing new to me, flash it in front of me, I DON'T CARE! Cause I'm my worst enemy, and I've survived myself, so I think I'll survive you. And I'll write passed carpal tunnel syndrome sinkin in.
Pain motivates me. It's like pain toppled with a few strong shots of caffeine, it wakes me up. Come up on life, so abrupt. Cause the beats will come. They will run, and run, till they reach the Sun, cause I need this, I just need some good ole fashioned guidance, that's all. It's hard to do it on your own.
The whole purpose is to own the throne; power and money, enough to blow, put on a show and get people hyped about life, cause adrenalin is my vice. And I take, more and more, tolerance I ignore, cause the strength makes you smooth, to where you know you can't lose, just prove, to yourself. Keep a solid bill of health. Came out your life like a stealth and come thru with a vengeance. The shady side won't risk immenseness.
[Can't believe how fixated on money and power I was back then? But I know that I meant well, but was just so lost and confused]
A Poem called, "BAH HUMBUG" June 26th, 2006:
The check didn't come! It never does?
So what the fu(k do I do? Freak out? Throw a rut?
I 'HATE' the temptation of relieving this stress.
But I must learn how to deal with this, until my death...
Look at my deck of cards I've been dealt?
Shit don't look so bright!
Feeling good ain't as simple as flying a kite.
I just might make it, or I just might throw a fit.
But no matter what happens, this is some real shit.
Cause life is fu(ked up.
But I try to laugh.
I crave that power!
And want that cash...
I'm alienated.
Have a fu(ked up past.
If you want to judge me you can kiss my ass.
I'LL BE BURIED UPSIDE DOWN!
And disciplines rising.
And my strength is MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My training is sick.
The pain, I must have. It's what I'm use to.
And at times, it feels beautiful.
Full Of Faith; being a warrior takes getting use to.
Life turning sour.
Feeling drained of power.
But when it comes back? Revenge is in the path that I take.
Cause I'm angry, and this shit is personal.
Take the war to new heights.
My politicals is versatile.
Cause morals should be allowed.
Don't let me see you break them.
This the mind of a true zen warrior.
[I have no clue what was going thru my head during this, BUT! And I apologize for the cursing, this is how far gone I was, and thru shear faith, we can change.]
Thanx for reading, BLUR.
Friday, November 1, 2013
BLURRY POETRY from JUNE 8TH, 2006: "BALL OF HOPELESS CONFUSION" and "NON-SENSICAL SENSICALS"
5 hundred, 25 thousand, 600 minutes(I have no idea what that means, but I wrote it in the notebook?)Probably time I was sober, at the time?
Yeah, that sounds like me? Drastically, dramatically turning the days sober, into minutes.
Poem called, "BALL OF HOPELESS CONFUSION"
I write like this.
I write like that.
Searching for bliss.(Ananda)
9 lives like a cat(meow)
I wonder if I'll ever be the same?
Ever be sane?
So I blame the game of life.
Can't explain my nerves.
LIFE has got some nerve(I got that saying, "Some Nerve" from my Dad)
Crept up on me...
And hurt my SOUL.
Feeling pain is getting old.
Life won't mold.
Any direction.
Feel my self standing still.
As I fight the stress.
Can't let it get the best of me, I'd rather bleed like a banshee screams.
And I fight the anxiety.
Try to hold it back.
Put together what is left of me.
[Where's the fire? What are you some sort of fu(ken liar?]
A Poem called, "NON-SENSICAL SENSICALS"
Motivation's hard to come, bye.
Catch myself glimpsing at ways to make it mine.
They say, 'Keep on writing', but steer clear of fighting.
Need that genius mentality.
Want to be part geek, part nerd, but it's hard, when you're all street.
I need to learn how to work with my genetics.
Train my calisthenics.
Quick reaction on the trigger.
Energy like ginger.
Gotta let them words, sick of having to warm up; let it flow like peeing in the bowl, ya know?
Want to advance my killa skillz.
Wanna be able to snap a neck.(WOO-what was wrong with me-soulless?)
If demons run I'll be the *Warrior Of GODZ*, be the *Law Power Of The Holy Warriors*?
Cause I done wrong and feel guilty.
Tryen to make amends and feel pleased, and at peace, if ya need to get at me, do it to my face.
The situation I'll embrace.
Krs One, said, "Read and Write to get your rhymes tight, and make ya flow nice."
Learn acapella, even though it's harder than learning the chello, fellow.
But don't fret the hard stuff, for you are Humble, and Original.
Yeah, that sounds like me? Drastically, dramatically turning the days sober, into minutes.
Poem called, "BALL OF HOPELESS CONFUSION"
I write like this.
I write like that.
Searching for bliss.(Ananda)
9 lives like a cat(meow)
I wonder if I'll ever be the same?
Ever be sane?
So I blame the game of life.
Can't explain my nerves.
LIFE has got some nerve(I got that saying, "Some Nerve" from my Dad)
Crept up on me...
And hurt my SOUL.
Feeling pain is getting old.
Life won't mold.
Any direction.
Feel my self standing still.
As I fight the stress.
Can't let it get the best of me, I'd rather bleed like a banshee screams.
And I fight the anxiety.
Try to hold it back.
Put together what is left of me.
[Where's the fire? What are you some sort of fu(ken liar?]
A Poem called, "NON-SENSICAL SENSICALS"
Motivation's hard to come, bye.
Catch myself glimpsing at ways to make it mine.
They say, 'Keep on writing', but steer clear of fighting.
Need that genius mentality.
Want to be part geek, part nerd, but it's hard, when you're all street.
I need to learn how to work with my genetics.
Train my calisthenics.
Quick reaction on the trigger.
Energy like ginger.
Gotta let them words, sick of having to warm up; let it flow like peeing in the bowl, ya know?
Want to advance my killa skillz.
Wanna be able to snap a neck.(WOO-what was wrong with me-soulless?)
If demons run I'll be the *Warrior Of GODZ*, be the *Law Power Of The Holy Warriors*?
Cause I done wrong and feel guilty.
Tryen to make amends and feel pleased, and at peace, if ya need to get at me, do it to my face.
The situation I'll embrace.
Krs One, said, "Read and Write to get your rhymes tight, and make ya flow nice."
Learn acapella, even though it's harder than learning the chello, fellow.
But don't fret the hard stuff, for you are Humble, and Original.
BLURZ: HORROR-BLE/INSANE RHYME DIARIES FROM July 6Th, 2006: "NOTHING TO LOSE"
I'm losing my mothafu(ken mind, but it all ways feels lost, but at least I'm the boss, that pays the ultimate cost.
I got goals, but none of them are complete.
I need Hip Hop insight to make my rhymes tight. My beats suck cause my keyboard is ghetto.
These beats, nobody has them, I know, cause my keyboard is from the 70's, yeah, the 1970's baby.
Yo, besides.....my rhymes BLOW!
My writing skill obviously sucks. And I do give a fu(k, which makes life suck even more. More than I feel it has to. I get tired of trying, was unsuccessful at dying.
Man I can feel my ADHD, and when my brain doesn't function, I feel like I'm flunken.
I'll keep trying...
it don't work out right.
Fu(k rhymin! Fu(k rightin(I know, I spelt writing wrong). I wanna be the best, wit out putting in work effort. I CRAVE SKILL! Want people to feel that I'm ILL. But mentally...I am ill.....But Fu(k It, being alive, I'm stuck with it. My soul's torn to fu(ken bits, but fu(k cutting a wrist; No Suicide(ever).
I'll deal with the muthafu(ken hell that I created. Why should I fu(ken care? I'm Stuck Here! If you felt my pain you'd be in tears. Fu(k drinkin beers, Fu(k getting high, cause I'm living to die, punch someone dead in their eye, just to crack a smile because I'm becoming more wild. It comes with the territory. Try To Test Me. Cause I'm a crazy muthafu(ka with nothing to lose.
A Rhyme Called, "NOTHING TO LOSE"(oh boy?)
Nothing to lose, but a lot to prove.
Aiming towards my goals, got to find a grove.
Forever strive to improve.
I want lethal Karate skillz.
I wanna be rich, cause I crave power(oh boy).
Hate when motivation turns sour.
But I push fourth cause I'm no coward.
Mutha fu(kas wanna put me down!
Wanna make me frown!
But hand to hand, pound for pound, gonna take the crown.
Push ya down.
To da floor.
Wit da tour of war.
Cause I read Sun Tzu, and I'm NO fool.
Yall be knee deep of blood in ya own pool.
Like I'z said, "I got nothing to lose, and a lot to prove."
Gonna beat the odds, use all my tools.
Cause odds been stacked against me, for so long, but now I see, three steps ahead of me.
Can't let my own madness get the best of me.
Gotta stick to the plan.
Discipline is my only friend.
Cause I'm sick of having no-thang.
Break-it-down, man.
(oh boy)means: I see how far gone and worng I was back then.
(11-1-2013)ONE DAY THIS WILL ALL MAKE SENSE! I have to show how far gone my soul really was, the rawness, and the pure essence of harsh truth to reach the hopeless, needs to be shown the intensity of how hopeless I was, so I apologize for the profanity, but it's the only way to show, word for word, where I was and how faith has brought me back from the pits of hell, lost, dead soul=REBORN
BLURrrr
I got goals, but none of them are complete.
I need Hip Hop insight to make my rhymes tight. My beats suck cause my keyboard is ghetto.
These beats, nobody has them, I know, cause my keyboard is from the 70's, yeah, the 1970's baby.
Yo, besides.....my rhymes BLOW!
My writing skill obviously sucks. And I do give a fu(k, which makes life suck even more. More than I feel it has to. I get tired of trying, was unsuccessful at dying.
Man I can feel my ADHD, and when my brain doesn't function, I feel like I'm flunken.
I'll keep trying...
it don't work out right.
Fu(k rhymin! Fu(k rightin(I know, I spelt writing wrong). I wanna be the best, wit out putting in work effort. I CRAVE SKILL! Want people to feel that I'm ILL. But mentally...I am ill.....But Fu(k It, being alive, I'm stuck with it. My soul's torn to fu(ken bits, but fu(k cutting a wrist; No Suicide(ever).
I'll deal with the muthafu(ken hell that I created. Why should I fu(ken care? I'm Stuck Here! If you felt my pain you'd be in tears. Fu(k drinkin beers, Fu(k getting high, cause I'm living to die, punch someone dead in their eye, just to crack a smile because I'm becoming more wild. It comes with the territory. Try To Test Me. Cause I'm a crazy muthafu(ka with nothing to lose.
A Rhyme Called, "NOTHING TO LOSE"(oh boy?)
Nothing to lose, but a lot to prove.
Aiming towards my goals, got to find a grove.
Forever strive to improve.
I want lethal Karate skillz.
I wanna be rich, cause I crave power(oh boy).
Hate when motivation turns sour.
But I push fourth cause I'm no coward.
Mutha fu(kas wanna put me down!
Wanna make me frown!
But hand to hand, pound for pound, gonna take the crown.
Push ya down.
To da floor.
Wit da tour of war.
Cause I read Sun Tzu, and I'm NO fool.
Yall be knee deep of blood in ya own pool.
Like I'z said, "I got nothing to lose, and a lot to prove."
Gonna beat the odds, use all my tools.
Cause odds been stacked against me, for so long, but now I see, three steps ahead of me.
Can't let my own madness get the best of me.
Gotta stick to the plan.
Discipline is my only friend.
Cause I'm sick of having no-thang.
Break-it-down, man.
(oh boy)means: I see how far gone and worng I was back then.
(11-1-2013)ONE DAY THIS WILL ALL MAKE SENSE! I have to show how far gone my soul really was, the rawness, and the pure essence of harsh truth to reach the hopeless, needs to be shown the intensity of how hopeless I was, so I apologize for the profanity, but it's the only way to show, word for word, where I was and how faith has brought me back from the pits of hell, lost, dead soul=REBORN
BLURrrr
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