Not a fucking man.
Even feel lesser.
Expectations of.
Never. Measure.
Up to what I could be.
Maybe. Who's me?
Christmas wrapping paper.
Trash. Never treasure.
...I'm a fucking mess and still better than most you ever know. Even with my fucking shit, i'm God when i'm emotional. So bow down to the trash. Kiss my ass. Lick the fucking hole. Wait until I cum, swallow what you'll never get to know....
...Wish you all would let go my physical attributes. Black skin. So what? Nigga i am nothing like you. Dick mighty large but fucking dude i'm not gonna hang with you. My age isn't shit. Who gives fuck about what I fucking do. In public, that club scenes is crap. Rather pick up prostitutes. And sniff coke off their asses before I actually give a fuck or two. Then overdose. Nose burning white, dying in the hospital. Jesus have mercy, what the hell got into you?..
...Angel on my shoulder. Reaper at my front door. Satan in my bedroom. Who's me? Dont know. Dont care. Wont wonder. Cruel Summer. Loving winter. Mind splinters. Thoughts break. Life hate. Death wait. Full plate. Not hungry. Crowded table. Still lonely. Still only. Better as. Best math. Added it up. Pencils down. Test over. Leave now. Scream out!...Never. Measure. Maybe. Who's me? Christmas wrapping paper. Trash. Never treasure.