I'm sick, but I already told you that before.
You're the ones that still choose to ignore.
You're so blind you didn't even see the cuts I wore.
Wore? No I still wear.
Do you care?
I dont! "Huh Adam? That's not fair?"
Where, Is my ammo, Ima bout to load the gun.
I'm so sick I play Russian Roulette for fun.
I keep telling myself this new girls going to be the one.
But life never turns out how I want it to be.
You can never see, the things that happen to me.
If you did see, you still wouldn't believe.
You only read it, or hear it, see what I post.
But I couldn't even post half of the most.
"Who's the most traumatized?" Only time I can boast.
And my bad, my insecurities keep me from seeking help.
You couldn't handle half the things I got on my shelf.
"You should help yourself". But I hear, I should kill myself.
"You're music is so sad, it's not good. It's just pitiful".
Well my bad, I'm sorry that my fucking life was miserable.
This shit is so emotional, that its physical.
"You're too despicable. You're so cynical. This is so criminal".
I guess that's what happens when your depression is clinical.
My life is not livable. My life isnt fixable.
I wake up depressed, and go to work depressed. Its typical.
Its literal. I'm critical. I even cut myself to make it visible.
You still dont even see me, even at the top of the pinnacle.
My job is literally playing call of duty.
Walking around Verdansk begging for people to shoot me.
My life is like something that's out of a movie.
Than I come and make these songs for you guys to use,
To get thru tough times. But you choose to abuse.
I'ma size 13, Theres no way you could fit in my shoes.
I called my mom, Told here I was suicidal, and I'm sick.
She asked, "What the hell is wrong with you, You bitch".
She thinks that I'm being a selfish dick.
"Why are you depressed?" Idk, Mom.
Maybe it's the HAHAHAHAHAS.
Maybe it's the fake people with the bla bla blas.
They tried to put me in a hospital bed.
Where they make me take these meds.
And all they do, is mess with your head.
Because after your high, you crash down again.
And I'm deeper than where I was, wishing I was dead.
"Just take more" Nobody wants to hear what I just said.
So now let's get thise
straight,
I make songs that no one has the balls to make.
Where thousands can relate.
And I get hella compliments, but double the hate.
I must be a waiter with all the shit on my plate.
This world hates the real, and they love the fake.
I actually share my pain,
I'm father down the lane.
I'm nowhere near sane.
But yet I'm the most sane of them all.
I want to start living my life privately.
I think I need privacy.
I'm so sick of dealing with fake and rivalry.
Clearly my attitude doesnt have propriety.
Isnt that some irony?
I'm done communicating with this society.
Its killing me anxeity.
This isnt a song, it's my thoughts, wrote it in my diary.
11 albums but you still dont know the demons inside of me.
How can you see what I see? You ain't got the same eyes as me.
Another sad song, another sad album were in cycle.
And I'm somehow still all of yours idol.
I'm just a depressed rapper who raps about myself and the bible.
