Methodz
Some times I wonder what’s the real point of growing up.
When your door of opportunity slowly starts to close shut.
After years of broken hearts and sadness of loved ones dying.
You find yourself wet and sick cause your old and crying.
What is it in life were finding?, the real meaning of heartace.
And every since I started to grow up faster I felt my heart break.
Nights of crying because I don’t want my parents to leave me.
And when I try tell my close ones they either laugh or not believe me.
Writing this now crying, but in life who is the one who cares?.
My heart just tears because its juts full of un replied prayers.
I scared, cuz I don’t want to forget the good memories Ive taken.
Didn’t have the time to say sorry for all the trouble ive makin.
If u really think about it life is quick unless u take the time to respect it.
But I cant turn back and correct it, cuz my child hoods been rejected.
Would never expect it, being a kid were the best days of my life.
But I wish I could go back and respect the days that went by…
Mental God
As I look back on child-hood memories, I can't help but wonder
Did I take the time to really live life, or let it roll by like thunder
Was it just a sound in the backround, or did I listen intently
Did I take the time to look around, or let childhood slip contently
And incidentally, I can't paint a pretty picture of the past
Im trying to so slow down my mind, but time seems to fly by fast
I used to read the Flash, but now my mind is set on cash
Stepped a foot as an adult, and Im already about to crash
Childhood flame is now an ash, and a quarter of my life is over
No more fighting about if Santa is real, gotta struggle to stay sober
No more four leaf clovers, how hard you work determines luck
You get more slavin for minimum wage, then homeless findin a buck
I remember my yellow toy dump-truck, I loved it like no other
Untill I realized I only had anything, because of my hard working mother
And my older caring brother, who is more of a parent than a sibling
Was always trying to teach my to rhyme, even when I was only scribbling
Now i find myself nibbling, trying to hold on to those golden years
But how can you think of the past, when your future brings only tears
And many more fears, how can you live when your loved pass away
I only hope they feel the same way, when they throw a boquet on my grave
This is all true...