Lyrics:

I feel like I haven't been myself for so long that this is actually me now. 
I've cracked teeth with the flames that I breath out. 10 pints down still won't bleed out. 
We went from symbiotic to parasitic. 
In other words. As far as love. You've got it and I give it. Bright, but that doesn't seem fair, so is it? 

I may have had a hand in your making and that's vaguely my perception. 
But I really did love you. Wait no, that's just my misconception. 
You look in the mirror and vainly see perfection. 
And You walked on water yeah just to see your own reflection. 

As introspection leaves me I return to shallow lines and call it symmetry. 
I know I'm a dick. Sure I'm the one that has to live with me. 
That's the system see, I'd rather be complaining than leaving. 
It's Spanish omelettes in the morning and Spanish women in the evening. 

I'm not thorough enough to be obsessed with becoming a legend. 
Like Robert in Foxborough, yeah, the craft comes second. 
I'm close to the edge and, soon I'll forget what I'm doing this for. 
If you play your cards right, you won't even have to play cards anymore. 

So it's open diary entries til then. No shiny cars drenched in sin. I'm just trying to get out as much as I put in. 
Or maybe more, they say rising tides lift all ships. But I feel like the Anchor, either I'm holding you down or you're picking me up. Shit. 

People will kick you when you're down without even knowing how you got there. "I don't mean to interrupt you when you're crying, but you're mid tier". 
I'm fuelled by spite, see...
With memory like this, I should be killed for ivory. 
Forget my heroes, even my fucking villains look like me. 

I suggest for the sake of your bone structure, you don't fuck with me. 
I'll leave you slumped over like a tower in the west of Italy. 
It's time for a new chapter, my mother always said you could be anything but
Don't be a rapper. 

So here's my unfinished masterpiece, I'm not Matisse, I'm just tryna Make You Say Ugh, like Master P. 
Or at least nod your head. So I don't blow mine off. I gotta smile for my headshot, while I bare my cross. 
I'm not Rick Ross.

Queue

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