it's sad to say I'm out of date
out of stories and inspiration
my heart beats like waves from an ocean
the motion I keeps on going
I keep on writting till the day I'm dying
writting in me I know that
so I keep on even tho I feel trap
in my heart confusion convulsion
why don't I want to take animation
not good at that I want to rap
and in college take production class
but for now just write something dope
I know I can if only I dont choke
when I try feels like broken spokes in my troat
and I choke at the sound of the beat
then I fall on the concrete
no inspiration to feed on
then I fall in a real deep sleep
and all of that is really not good for me
if I cant paint I a goddamn fucking picture
I might as well die with everybody stricture
then comeback even stronger then I started
like hurricanes stronger in the end then departed
but for now I try only to grasp whatever inspiration left
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