Mixed Emotions - Kwote

(Lyrics):
yo, my confidence levels low as its ever gotten
i need a hospital bed at home coz my head is throbbin
stressin lots and poppin some lexapro's for depression often
when this insomnia settles though i'll be gettin off em
then i stop em and my suicidal thoughts begin
so i abuse the booze that ima lose my vital organs in
when people say they like my music i will force a grin
but rap is so repetitive, a booth recycles more than bins
i cant afford a thing, i'm broke and i'm stuck with these fines
no license, no job and totally fucked in the mind
i cant apply for all these openings up in the mines
when just to lock a door i have to poke it or touch it three times
thats OCD for ya, thats OCD for ya
thats OCD for ya, see, its mostly been torture
disconnected feelin like a lonely sleep walker
i'm always coverin my hands in soap and clean water
i know its seems sorta dumb and excessive
but my thoughts are fucken demented, theres a hundred a second
theres nothin thats left for me to do but come to accept it
time to see another psych, once again question under assessment
stuck in a session as they analyze this anxious freak
incase i plan to cry, standin by's a handkerchief
and its like, every time i'm at the psychs my anger peaks
coz all i do's complain how sad my life is and repeat
can it be that i'm stuck in a trip
huh? i had a bit of acid once a kid
so what if none of this shit, fucken exists
and i'm just munted and sick, stuck in the grip of a drug that i did
always wonderin if i'm even alive
its like, maybe this is hell and as a teen i have died
or what if i'm an alien and its a dream i'm inside
and life on earth isnt even real, see this is why
I'm afraid that i cant cope, these pages of bars wrote, 
i would trade for a large rope or a blade in my parched throat,
I'm a slave to these darn smokes and the way that a flask soaks 
all the pain that i mask though its been breaking my heart most, 
coz i crave it and start moping and shaking and ask loads 
of my mates for a fast loan just to pay for a cask so 
i'm ashamed on a dark road where i stay in a glass home 
as i'm wasted and start throwing some majorly large stones...
the day that my arts known to be great as Picasso's
is makin its mark slow, i'm waitin as grass grows
my craniums half broken, remaining with half totes
amazing but part gross, am i crazy or smart? both
you get my songs, press play and my scars show
so strangers can grasp faith and relate to my past quotes
Australia's harsh poet, i bathe in a vast moat
where the rotting dead bodies of alligators and sharks float
I watch the stars glow, searchin for a sense of peace
i'm certain that this aint the person i was meant to be
mentally drained, nervous coz i'm tense and weak
my verses of depression seem like murderers, their sentenced heaps
i'm meant to sleep, but i'm busy procrastinating
and i'm shaking, tryna get rid of those massive cravings
why do my youtube videos lack the ratings 
others rappers videos have, it is so captivating
is it the tracks i'm making, do i winge too much
i tell myself 'Sheldon' everybody thinks you suck
your just a drop kick drinkin with a big huge gut
its true cunt, fix your fucken issues up
i misused drugs and now i'm regrettin it
alcohol found so i'm drownin my head in this
fountain, forever pissed, how can i ever quit
you just listened to the sound of patheticness

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https://www.youtube.com/user/MCMAYCH
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The Sound Of Patheticness - By Complete

Crooks to Castles ft. Holmesy 
Prod. Llouis 
Coverart- skets

Crooks to Castles ft. Holmesy

Cheap Sober Ft Complete - Return The Cost

Lyrics:
i use to be pretty weird, now i'm even bizzarer
i dream that disease or some freakish disaster deceases my father
i wanna take him to a street thats in gaza, without peices of armour
just to hear him scream as i'm leaving in laughter
and i'll be laughin till the evening after
even if half of his face has been beatin to nada
then i'll greet him with a liter of lava, 
so he looks like a leaking, half eaten fucken peice of lasagne
i'll send his family his teeth coz i rather
they know the mother fucker suffered so their greiving is harder
apparently he decided he had to flea to jarkarta
in indonesia, to start a new family with his partner
if thats what happened its ironic ive proceeded to barter
freaquently askin god if i can get some sleep for a starter
now after all these fucken years i'm recivein an answer
it turns out, all i need is a carton of some premium lager
the scene i'm a part a, increases the saga
where the grave that ive dug just gets deeper and darker
where the drinks get cheaper and they seem to be larger
and every groupie wants to be a penis massager, pleasin their master
but i can see through all their bleach and mascara
i'm keener to glass a diva with her pena calata
you always hear about a demon in prada
but the devil wears nike, adidas and even some dada
and neither a preist or a pastor or jesus the martyr
can preach their retarded beliefs to this creature i harbour
complete is the sargent, the teacher, the keeper and guarder
plus leading commander in cheif of immediate karma
its like i'm stuck inside a region of sparter
and though my rhymin is a weopon, my depressions a genius archer
please believe me, i don't mean to alarm ya
but tell dpart i'm gonna see him soon, as soon as i see my departure
and then i'm gonna go and meet him in scarbrough
with a cask of coolibah and a graffitists marker
then every single building on the beach can get marked a
TPW and NBD peice on its plaster
until then i'm just a creep of a crafter
streaming my artistry while getting weaker but smarter
in greek, i'm a freakin malaka who's sweeter than guava
but secretly sharper and cruler than the tools of a teedius barber
i see a mirage of a younger happy me
who had that deep hunger thats run my battery
weather it was a crumb or a hundred massive feeds
all i wanted to was become a rappin beast
and succeed, but their was somethin trappin me
the lumber jack in me, stumped, punchin back a tree
acid, weed, a bunch of passion p
and a dash of speed brung me this munted sanity
now i'm just a fucken numb and panicky
drunken brat in need of a bloody tonne of panadene
my breathing is stuffed coz my lung capacity
and i ain't even got the fucken funds to have a dream
when i drink burbon for fun my manners flea
you'd think i went to mother fucken cunt academy
able without a jacks then i flunked dramatically
to able without a jacks like its sons of anarchy
done with agony, so i take another sip and stare
at the beer bubbles rising, deciding this isn't fair
the ropes grippin my throat, i breathe a bit of air
shut my eyes then find i'm to fucken frightened to kick the chair
fuck!, this is for everybody who didn't care
for every chick who would rip and tear at my heart
while i'm sittin scared in the dark and their out suckin a bigger pair
for every tourcherous foul slut i considered rare
for every friend that i treated as my own flesh
who fucken dogged me for some reefa or some dope sex
i could protest, but leavin it alone seems easier then no friends,
and being on my own gets 
i'm on the home stretch, the conclusion is close
as soon i choose to be known as a human or ghost
just know that when my deaths gruesome and gross
ive always had a fucken room full of nooses and notes, cunt

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