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present tense - home bowman lyrics

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life has a funny way of f*cking you
your best friends fade away and that’s the only truth
no one real, they don’t care what you’re going through
when i smile, it’s a lie that i burn in you

i feel like everyday i’m hating life a little bit more
the servitude i’m undergoing just to get off the floor
another friendship’s gone i don’t care anymore
dead inside like a fly that’s been eating a corpse

i try to tell my truth not to impress you
but the words fall through and they misconstrue
everything i do as just a p*ssed off moody little b*tch boy, ooh
i got a fish tank of tears but i still play “boo”

but i know what i know
it’s a no when you ask how i feel
i don’t know but i grow
every time that i’m broke and i choke
on the words that i spoke when i smoked
and it poked at the bubble that i swore i evoked
and i’m done talking slow for the moment but a

part of me died
when you said you were watching that show all the time
with the person i hate but i didn’t pay mind to the sh*t that you did
as i watched you develop into a new kind of dissectible stereotype to the line of the path that you ride with your mind unexamined
it’s typical “taking a year for yourself” and you die as the guy that made burgers and fries for the rest of his life cause he never decided to put pride aside and then try his own hardest to get out the projects and make enough just to take family the furthest
no drive in your system it’s still avionic, the thc blocking that part of your knowledge instead of replying i know that you’ll probably whine to your friend on the chronic who’s chronically k!lling himself it’s dep*
inspire the mind with a kind of desire that leads to somewhere… instead of exile i wish you the best but there’s sh*t on my chest that i can’t to seem to free without chopping some heads

the hate that arose
is just a code for the path that i chose

i don’t give a f*ck about my x like i’m a limit
talk about the things we did but we ain’t ever did it
you a little snake why the f*ck won’t you admit it
i won’t listen to a b*tch less i’m trying to get up in it

f*ck you boy, i don’t really think you get it
i don’t need no friends that don’t wanna be committed
i got tons and tons and tons of fake people
wanna try me out like sampling a guinness

hoped the bro*ship would grow a bit better
you grew dumber, i’m a little bit bitter
talk about a boy that i knew when he was fed up
used to be intelligent enough to have a leg up
you were just running in place while i sped up
ritalin or not, i’m the same in the getup
you the type now just to blame it on the setup
“never had the chance” b*tch, you never went to get up

chance to catch your breath you will decease
different person every single season
propagate unfathomably heathenistic ideologies of reason
people dream but never really seize them
cause of sh*ts like you that fall so deeply
if the words i spoke decipher neatly
i’mma burn the bridge before you read me
keep the girl that sh*t is just beneath me
every word you speak remains discretely
empty, soulless, absentee of meaning
still devout of any morsel inkling

every day i wake up feeling peachy
living rent free, you cut me deeply
enterprise of endless pain defeats me
any moment fall into a deep sleep

and as for you…
what the f*ck did you want me to say?
i used to pray for you
don’t even believe in that sh*t
i’d do anything for you
still
somehow i felt like a monster when you’d talk to me
“yeah you two got a history”
seems to follow me

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