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what makes a man? - affinity drive lyrics

for your consideration:
when will people tire of my treacle pyre rhymes?
when will they bust the bluffs and snuff the gleeful fire in my eyes?
been known no end*zone will contain these flows laced in soul
let’s trot atop rattling step ladders and drop the radio
then ask, “who scattered messed matter?
who blew the flames?”
probably some grammatically*correct rapper who never grew a brain
or maybe i’m too insane but lookin’ back i shouldn’t ask, “who’s to blame?”
claim full responsibility for all the times i failed to act with god’s agility
got too many thoughts k!lling me
when life ain’t been half as dramatic as the songs say
ain’t been stabbed or attacked with blades
but react the wrong way after laughter of a long day
retract the fact
the back has been stabbed but never fatally
i was made to bleed ever patiently
melodrama again
but melt the commas i spend
it’s all in my head when falling in bed in a sheep sleep
tell my momma i’m dead and weep heaps
how do i now drown when the water’s knee deep?
why do i grieve streets and let down sounds on these beats?
the questions i ask represent the mask i left in the past the last few years ago
when i died as a superhero and tried to choose the zeros and knew the fears flow
the losers here, yo
yo, yo
attempted to pen gems in a tent when my best friends slept near
ten years i’ve kept them and the west end dear
yet when men said “let’s get beer”, i declined
if my mind stays sober i may gain closure or composure
besides, i’m permanently drunk
and it’s my turn to get crunk
the time drains slower
left my burdens in the trunk
hence entrusted talents must crush balance and meddle with fate
a robust gallant’s measuring tape won’t settle for ‘great’
it’s why i ain’t embarrassed to be paired with parrots
can’t be scared stiff if every square inch will bear this
nor can i sit tight
i hitchhike
they think i wanna fist fight
the author was wrong
this night the popular songs fit right
so a big shout out to clenched fists on bent wrists
tent pins in spent whims and melodies that mend limbs
and aforementioned questions that lack a sense of tension
half of them are senseless
the past is dense with lessons
here’s one: do i wanna know if the feeling flows both ways?
most days ghosts say, “keep the healing slow and hold fate”
i’ve retired from the ire as the vile looks beckon my sold grace
remember when driving miles took seconds?
the show changed, the times of childhood legends grow haste
i feel out of place like a monkey in the arctic * unharnessed
i can’t get funky in the darkness
let the light glow great
run free from the heartless at a bold pace
if your soul aches, contemplate, what goals make a man?
what goals make a man?
yo
why is the clown crying?
he tried to save the slaves from the flood and almost drowned trying
too many he found dying
saw his ma wash away in the waves
and watches thoughts of mistakes make quakes in the graves
hey, break a leg
hobble to the set
even the apostles bled
the insecurity is burning me fervently with awful threats
battered arms and battle scar
observe me lacking heart, ha
i claim i play the game of life to stay focused but wonder if they noticed
and i can’t live up to the titles of the late poets
the problem is that though i’m talkin’ to you with these rap flows that crash slow
i’m lost in the zoo
the only option i knew was to write like the night might strike with frights bite
despite reassurance of a positive future where i might get to breathe
and i’m a positive man
but when i pause with my paws in the sand i gnaw on the cost of the plan in composite humor
i wish i saw it a bit sooner
i get on the mic and get negative and beg the sins to emerge for the limelight
and lie like it’s all i live in but i can’t stop spitting this rhythm and i don’t know why
but i could die tonight and find it right
all i want to hear from the wide*eyed sidelines was a heartfelt, “oh my”
so then when the stars melt i can pelt, “no woman no cry”
pathetic

and to me, the fact that love can cause the most harm is the worst crime
even if the charm is in the third time
but tell that to those charged to live with cursed lives
blurred lines hurt time so i doubt the odds
i could live in the house of god and feel ground and raw
oh…

- affinity drive lyrics

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