Burial

I'm trying to make sense out of everything I face,
Feeling so lost, can't recognise my place,
Came from the bottom, didn't leave no trace,
Music is my life, but money is what I chase,

I'm born in a cycle, assigned to mimicry,
Imitating all the people who came before me,
I want to break the chain and still make it through the days,
I'll tell you about my problems so listen as I say,

I'm never going to stop and I'm going to keep it elevated,
They be coming in the back with a hand full of cash,
Turning me into their family within a flick of finger but I don't be fucking with fake-heads,
I'm giving 'em lyrical death,
But I call it the riddance of snitches,
Fuck them hoes and riches,
I'm thinking what the next is,

I don't rap about drugs, women, liquor and all those shit,
Stuck in the journey, just like my music is,
Probably would be in the same zone after apocalypse,
I can slaughter emcees, but I'm too generous,

Drop in a kick,
Fit in a rhyme,
Killing the microphone,
Switchin my flow in every line,
Leaving 'em blown in shows,

I've been smoking and drinking,
Don't know what I was thinking when I started,
But it got better with every single blink and,

I'm confused, got no clue,
Derailed from the path I choose,
Bad times just came through,
Fake friends had joined too,

Drowning in my own weight,
From the mistake that I made,
Chose a girl over everything,
Later got to know she's been hoe-ing since her third grade,
(Third grade),
She had me captivated, like bullshit is on Drake, (On Drake),

Then comes my mom, she hates the fact I rap,
And no matter what I do, she's never proud of that,
Always discouraging me, but I have the artifacts,
I stopped giving a fuck, they wouldn't look out of the map,

Map of the society,
Leading to anxiety,
Do you frigging feel this,
And visualise what I see?

Now Hip-Hop is my last resort,
At it least it won't turn its back on me even if I rip my vocal cords, Lord!
I'm trying to find myself, I'm lost under pressure,
My book's out of shelf, contemplating about my future,

The bullshit I face everyday makes it harder and harder,
The voice in my head getting louder and louder,
I'm almost done, get it out of my head,
I might drop the mic and pretend to be dead,

Took me a while to realise what's life about,
It's always not the fun, or finding ways of balling out,
I mean take a look around, everybody's has had bad times,
And my one doesn't end I just wonder why,

But I still have a little bit of positivity,
Hoping to resurrect Hip-Hop, like in the 90s,
Hoping I'll find a way out of the mess I am in,
And maybe get over my love for nicotine,

I'm trying to make sense out of everything I face,
Feeling so lost, can't recognise my place,
Came from the bottom, didn't leave no trace,
Music is my life, but money is what I chase,

Hooks:

Funeral, down to my burial, just another day, waking up to my cereals, yeah,

Calendars, they be turning dates on me, turning pages randomly, I'm telling myself, nigga, rest in peace x2