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identity - stevesaintjames lyrics

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a couple months ago i really thought i was the funny guy
now i’m not
what a shock
i need some mental healing on the rocks
i’m not kneeling you unfeeling b*tch come suck my c*ck
or come get socked
f*ckin cop
any day
any block
all that talk
time to walk
meet at the parking lot at 7:30 on the dot
walk ten paces, draw your weapon, turn and fire a shot
then praise your victory or pray the wound will start to clot

like everything is awesome
if you’re down to smoke the pot some
if he actin like he want some imma serve it with a shotgun
why so c*cky? you have not won
get torn apart like flotsam
you actin like you’re hard i’ll turn your ego to some cotton
i’m eating up you chickens with that fire like it’s hot ones
make your situation dire best retire ‘fore i pop some
if you’re looking to admire i’ll assume that you’re a liar who’s been looking to conspire till you prove that you are not one

but that ain’t me
that’s just a fantasy of what could be
but i don’t see a way to make ends meet
maybe i’ll never really set me free
so i’m slowly losing my identity
struggling to pinpoint anything
hardly even talk to family
cause this apple’s falling pretty f*ckin far from the tree

when feelings come i try to build a dam
but when it floods i don’t know who i am
so how am i supposed to be a man
when there’s still so much i just don’t understand
when i was raised, was told i always can
ain’t had to lift a finger or a hand
now i’m the f*ckin loser at the dance
was all this a f*ckin part of the plan?

n0body’s favorite
no girlfriend need a facelift
no best friend cause i’m faceless
but i always say i’m doing great, b*tch
but you have no f*ckin clue how sick i am of using patience
cause my voice is never heard unless i’m talking like a racist

face it
pasting and copying how i’m walking and talking from the successful is a waste b*tch
tasteless
this ain’t life i just survive
i don’t got anyone how can i thrive?
to be alive with what’s inside i need a*
therapist
a doctor into scary sh*t
got that mental sickness; tearing out my hair; i quit
if i can’t be myself i’ll be acceptable on medicine
i’m awful for my health; the head will turn me to a skeleton

y’all dive bombin’ the temple that is my body like osama bin laden responsible for countless accounts of mental trauma
feel the burning in my brain you got me down to start some drama
blood is pumping like it’s lava got me heated like a sauna
so maybe i should give up. maybe i should smoke some marijuana
drop the journey to the soul, revert to braggin’ bout some commas
maybe i should give up
no!
f*ck the pressure i don’t wanna
i’ll keep fighting till the day i reach nirvana

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