Time is crucial, street knowledge useful

These men act pretty, so my lyrics are brutal

At times of quiet, words doodle

By the art of my pen, my mercenary friend

weapon of choice to these cowardly men

Besides my seeds,

music & words will be the only thing left of me

when I reach the end.

Asking the Lord when I get there

when can I see my daughter & son again

I was born in sin, lifes my repent

Never truly be in happiness

My awkward smile shadows my mess

eyes that should sleep has been neglected

Glad I quit cigarettes..cold turkey

Liver dying slow, preventing lungs from being dirty

As I stare to the sky, with misty eyes

am I already in paradise?

Or not knowing because I didn’t analyze?

To “think” is to, without the mind

walk with worn down shoes

See with a deeper point of view

“free spirit” because I live without rules

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