The list of things I used to be
is longer than the list of things I am
Ex-lover, ex-friend, ex-communicated atheist,
ex-patriot living in the heartland,
living on the small chance luck would save the last dance,
for an underrated writer, overrated rhymer, undecided major on an unrelated matter,
this day i'd like to say what all the tug of war is for,
more than slack wrote, more than sunstroke,
than rum soaked in sad jokes at rap shows,
some folks know how slow that trap closes, proses, closes,
I've never been feeling like I found it,
I'm not a writer I just drink a lot about it,
if diamonds are a girls best friend, then you can share a fine laugh and you can send me (back to the bottom of the mineshaft...)
i've been here before and I know where it goes, it goes down. (it goes down)
snow falls faster than angels ash virgina slims,
and if we've come a long way, I've suspected sideways,
further from our origin, no closer to our destination,
I'm bad with names, shit, I'm bad with faces,
I'm bad with bills, and little kids, and running places,
I'm beginning to write like, american: give me a minute on the mic,
a little to like, your rhythm to spite, a bit of the pride to fight,
you tried, you're right fried,
(your lines are all mine)
you're tired, you're fried, you're inside of the line,
its a brilliant design,
it's just like act surprised!
I lost some money on the way to dice,
I lost an octave to the camel lights,
and when I lost you,
I lost some good love and a handsome light,
I lost a friend to my wit, and in my pride I'd rather sit while you drive.
i've been here before and I know where it goes, it goes down. (it goes down)
the plans that we made, and the bills, and the planes, all go downtown.
I dont need the live code