Sometimes,late at night, my pupils will dilate and my eyes will get real wide.
Even with nothing in me.
`
And YouTube will feed me a clip and I’ll catch myself thinking
“Holy fuck, I’m glad I’m not a public person”
That position isn’t given , it’s earned from like, merit and talent and stuff, but Jesus Christ,,
What weight.
What blistering responsibility it must be, to be heard, to be considered.
Bleh.
Imma keep talking about farts and masturbating, because Puffy Told Biggie
“Write what you know, write what’s around you”
ANd that’s where I extract my wisdom from, somewhere between the bars, between the beats..
That shit has got to be exhausting right?
Camera in your grill, tellin these morons how you feel,
Erry-body got summin ta sey.
Every day every day every day.
Think the audience gets tired of it?
They must,right?
Think motherfuckers get tired of being mad and complaining about what other monkeys said??
Jesus Christ buttfucking a triceratops.
Bleh..
No thanks.
Respect to ya, good work if you can get it, but bleh.
ANd you’re supposed to exercise restraint?
You’re supposed to bite your tongue during all this? So you don’t hurt peoples feelings?
Tedious.
Fuckin tedious existence out there.
Bleh
It’s too bad that crime doesnt pay
dawn 