dear diary - dubby lyrics
[verse 1]
different day, same old sh-t
look at me as a little white boy, but believe i could be that main event
livin in the booth still payin rent
minimum wage, i’m makin cents
dude, you’re gonna make it…shut the f-ck up, they’ve been sayin that
everybody wanna be that dude at the top
everybody wanna cop a pool and a watch, but it’s hard when your worth ain’t stored in a purse or a bank, just stays in the tubes of ya sock
rulin him out, yea that’s me, but i get used to it
fans act like it’s a holiday, but i’m just scrooge to em
take off for the day, scribble thoughts on the page, never walking away cuz i’m…
paralyzed at the waist and they ain’t gonna ever let me walk in the game
quiet mother f-ckers start talkin again
hater on the net, but he stalkin my page
do it all for the pay and the fame entertain these lames everyday
never let it get in my way
never let another man say that i’ve changed, never lose track no runaway train
put the gun away -bang- put a hole the brain of the artist, whose thoughts on the page
wanna shoot a lot, but it’s blank. wanna write a lot, but it’s blank
wanna smoke a lot, but i can’t cuz the pay of a chase of a dream ain’t as good as you think
ain’t as good as you think
[hook]
barricade my emotions, i fall, but keep going
my arms fallin off as i crawl like a soldier
i’m lost, but not hopeless, the th-rns from the roses
dig deep and it seems that they’re beauty is gone
but it’s not, only me as i stress and i scream
and the bottle of captain surp-sses the weed
is it me, is it them. the day starts with a pen
as i open the page sayin dear diary, diary
verse 2
writin with #2, drivin for #1
strivin for nothing, but a shot to get my pockets stuffed
who in this room gonna stop me, huh?
roads rocky, but i never not give up
race to the top, straight away commin up
watch dubby p-ss that like stockton does
but that’s utah and this pa
i got two b-lls for -ssumed hate
i gotta move on, but it’s too late
the bell rang, the bus came
i got a lunch box and my ticket; catch that greyhound to that city
hopin that rich dude gonna listen, feel like tom cruise on that mission
impossible, illogical, flow cold so i hold that popsicle
degrees of the heat is the obstacle, now its seen on my feet before i got to move
i got a lot to lose, i got a lot to gain, i drink a lot of booze to put a pause to pain
i make a lot of tracks, but seen a lot of trains, and it’s all aboard if you got the change
but i don’t. never have. plans falling through, i need a better bag
all i got’s this pack with a hole in the back and the logo cracked and it lacks and it can’t hold anything
when will i crumble, when will i break, dear diary…this my final page
[hook]
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