tried to shoot

i be havin' bad dreams about doin' bad things

no money

my momma is gone

it's a sad thing

and the devil is laughin

if there was such a thing

you couldn't weigh my problems out with a human triple beam

i'm all fucked up

you might find me in the dump truck

gin in my cup

hundred and fifty on the rough

i'm a tough act to follow

leave your chest hollow

see it ain't that tough

heat that ass up with the ralo

and hit the road

explode niggas with old vendettas

i talk alot of shit so my click pack berettas to rip back your leather

the world is cold

you could find me inside the bottle at 15 years old

i was tired of all the arguin'

fussin'

and fightin'

ten years later i'm borrowin

adjusting the mic and

try'na make it through these hard times

tellin' my problems

but who cares

everybody i know got 'em

i'm upstairs

starin' out the window drinkin o.e

i know this bottle really love me

i love you too

you be helpin' me through my problems

killin' my fears

and you understand when i break down you bring out the tears

and you give me heart

but i just can't take it

shit's hella fucked up

bad luck

just can't shake it

half way to the grave

half way from birth

try'na wonder what my life is worth

i think i'm cursed

i put the gun to my head

tried to shoot

i think i'm better off dead

where's my kids?

make sure they ain't around

tell 'em i love um

tell 'em bend down on the ground

plug ya ears

what you hear ain't nothin' but a cartoon

a bad dream

your daddy

he comin' back soon

in another form

re-born

with some great expectations

i'ma miss you too

believe it

got dealt some bad punches

but i'ma roll with it

got served some bad lunches

so who can i trust?

got love and i don't want it

who's teachin' me hate?

got hate when i don't need it

i believe in my faith

diagnosed manic depressive

only learned one lesson

and that's fuck it

forget it

and let it die like the rest of 'em

battled with the best of 'em

they can't touch me

then shadowed out the rest of 'em

you can't fuck me

might as well go 'head and let me murder myself

niggas got hate for me anyway

take it

it's hell

and if i see you at the funeral

i'ma reach out for you

that one up in the corner

give his ass to the coroner

he just another foreigner

all in my mix

don't have the slightest idea how i'm feelin 'bout shit

cuz i maintain my composure

never tellin' the plan

my brain stained in dosia

i'm tellin' you man