Coming out of a funk
Feeling down in a rut
Tryin my best to adjust to this system that we call luck
It’s so criminal
The times that we rely on the residual
The ritual
Habitual
Our problems are only clinical
Cynical, I know, but I’m supposed to be critical
Music artist in a city where being dope is the typical
You only gain respect because you’re at the top of the pinnacle
People don’t give a shit about your bitches. Make miracles.
One learns fast about the shit that they’re made to do
When they realize the world is just a giant Columbus zoo
But when they’re born into a life of a family that’s well to do
They be lookin in the mirror always askin “the fuck are you?”

(pause)When you don’t know who’s lookin’ back
And you feel like if you back up then you’ll fall in a trap
Remember that you’re not alone in not knowing jack
You can always say goodbye, then get up and pack

Gotta take a breather…
I’m done being a preacher
I wish other cultures were as prevalent as mine
My dream is real hip hop sitting in the public eye
I don’t know what it is about all this fuckin’ xanny rap
All these bullets and guns, and I’m not talkin’ orange cap
Pills fucking kill you, they don’t break you out of your shell
Why do you keep supporting all this cyclical hell?
Kids my age, seventeen, doing drive bys
Thinking that joining a gang opens up their mind’s eye
Snorting lines, doing time, when they could be getting five guys
Taking trust away from friends, family, telling them straight lies
It scares me to think that I could lose some of my friends
To a preventable disease that seeks the means to no ends
I write this song for them in the hopes that they make amends
And if they never do, this is for those on the same bend

But what do I know
I’m just some privileged white kid
Looking in a mirror
But I’ve never seen clearer