3 verses im lookin to record..need feedback
" MY LIFE, MY THOUGHTS"
verse 1
a couple a years-back// i was in the P holdin-my-tears-back, controllin-my-fierce-acts on queer-cats..frontin-some-thugs// dumpin-some-slugs and sellin nuthin-but-drugs..to fiends-fa-cash// now im gettin the green-fa-raps..kickin-the-real-shit// like a strap spittin-the-steel-clip..my-lines-are-automatic// my-signs-are-not-an-act-bitch// spit platinum triple like a hat-trick..call me Gretzke// slap-shots to cats-knots is how most have met-me..left cold-as-ice// unconcious, lost em, no-more-life..still kept-movin, kept-hustlin// felt-useless, felt-nuthin..empty-inside, a bottomless-pit// it was temptin-ta-die, got-off-of-this-trip..still contenplate-death// have dreams that i got-my-face-pressed..on the back-of-a-shirt// wit my name on on the back in caps-and-it-hurt..to see my homies-emotions// wake up in a hot sweat, lonely-and-broken// feel im in a movin world but im the only-in-motion..livin life as an outcast// im the type to count-facts..and add-em-up// jus to find 90% of these cats is actin-tough..stop-wit-the-fakeness// pull my plug so i can escape the lock-of-this-matrix..
verse 2
my life in my-form// rappin soothes me, i gotta write-more..flow-more// go-for the gold or be no-more//my heart is so-sore..so scarred// feel im spittin verses wit no-bars// i've begun a race wit no-start..no-finish// wanna quit life but im soaked-in-it// got a record butits no-guiness..im talkin-criminal// wut i got-is-minimal//drop-in-intervals..3 verses at-a-time//if this rap dont work than its back-to-nines//rappin-lines that mean nuthin cuz its past-my-time..i can see myself old-as-fuck, barely holdin-up, already sold-my-guns..and put my rag-away// chillin wit some alizay and a bag-a-dank..postin-on-my-porch// roaches-on-the-floor..reminissin bout that never endin-mission// sendin-victims to the dirt til' the end-a-christmas//this entered-vision..is my motivation// to flow-in-faces, knowin-they-spit gay-shit cuz they proly growin-rapists.. or they mark bitches cuz they showin-fakeness..block-em-out// if challenged, knock-em-out wit raps that drop-them-clowns..these are my-thoughts// constantly runnin through my head til' my-life-stops..
verse 3
through this song im spillin-my-thoughts// said im fealin-im-not enough of a man to stop killin-them-cops or stealin-them-rocks..from coke-pushers// them rock boilin dope-cookers..street-chefs// fuckin wit major money so dealers need-techs..still jacked-em// killed-half-em wit real-actions that always left the steal-blastin..young-thug-in-the-slums// dumb-fuck-fuckin-wit-guns..lived a bad-life// carried steal in my backpack instead of graphite..always absent-from-school, actin-a-fool//bendin the block and snappin-the-rules..an ignorant immigrant to livin-rich// so i stayed poor cuz actin lavish was a different-script..a foreign-life// everyday is war-to-types..of my-kind//open ya palm and watch ya lifeline cut short by a sniper on the skyline//holdin magazines but not like-times..like gun-clips// in the palms of young-kids//im done-wit..this lifestyle-im-livin// wanna slit my wrist wit this knife-file-im-grippin..or take this strapim holdin-right-now// put to my scull and blow-my-lights-out..it would be myself that i-offed// but it would put an end to this madness and that my life and my-thoughts..
CHORUS:
this is my-life, my-thoughts// i tried-life, it died-off..but i still live-my-life and think my-thoughts// i wish-i'd-rise but i know i'll-die wit titles unknown on my-songs
" MY LIFE, MY THOUGHTS"
verse 1
a couple a years-back// i was in the P holdin-my-tears-back, controllin-my-fierce-acts on queer-cats..frontin-some-thugs// dumpin-some-slugs and sellin nuthin-but-drugs..to fiends-fa-cash// now im gettin the green-fa-raps..kickin-the-real-shit// like a strap spittin-the-steel-clip..my-lines-are-automatic// my-signs-are-not-an-act-bitch// spit platinum triple like a hat-trick..call me Gretzke// slap-shots to cats-knots is how most have met-me..left cold-as-ice// unconcious, lost em, no-more-life..still kept-movin, kept-hustlin// felt-useless, felt-nuthin..empty-inside, a bottomless-pit// it was temptin-ta-die, got-off-of-this-trip..still contenplate-death// have dreams that i got-my-face-pressed..on the back-of-a-shirt// wit my name on on the back in caps-and-it-hurt..to see my homies-emotions// wake up in a hot sweat, lonely-and-broken// feel im in a movin world but im the only-in-motion..livin life as an outcast// im the type to count-facts..and add-em-up// jus to find 90% of these cats is actin-tough..stop-wit-the-fakeness// pull my plug so i can escape the lock-of-this-matrix..
verse 2
my life in my-form// rappin soothes me, i gotta write-more..flow-more// go-for the gold or be no-more//my heart is so-sore..so scarred// feel im spittin verses wit no-bars// i've begun a race wit no-start..no-finish// wanna quit life but im soaked-in-it// got a record butits no-guiness..im talkin-criminal// wut i got-is-minimal//drop-in-intervals..3 verses at-a-time//if this rap dont work than its back-to-nines//rappin-lines that mean nuthin cuz its past-my-time..i can see myself old-as-fuck, barely holdin-up, already sold-my-guns..and put my rag-away// chillin wit some alizay and a bag-a-dank..postin-on-my-porch// roaches-on-the-floor..reminissin bout that never endin-mission// sendin-victims to the dirt til' the end-a-christmas//this entered-vision..is my motivation// to flow-in-faces, knowin-they-spit gay-shit cuz they proly growin-rapists.. or they mark bitches cuz they showin-fakeness..block-em-out// if challenged, knock-em-out wit raps that drop-them-clowns..these are my-thoughts// constantly runnin through my head til' my-life-stops..
verse 3
through this song im spillin-my-thoughts// said im fealin-im-not enough of a man to stop killin-them-cops or stealin-them-rocks..from coke-pushers// them rock boilin dope-cookers..street-chefs// fuckin wit major money so dealers need-techs..still jacked-em// killed-half-em wit real-actions that always left the steal-blastin..young-thug-in-the-slums// dumb-fuck-fuckin-wit-guns..lived a bad-life// carried steal in my backpack instead of graphite..always absent-from-school, actin-a-fool//bendin the block and snappin-the-rules..an ignorant immigrant to livin-rich// so i stayed poor cuz actin lavish was a different-script..a foreign-life// everyday is war-to-types..of my-kind//open ya palm and watch ya lifeline cut short by a sniper on the skyline//holdin magazines but not like-times..like gun-clips// in the palms of young-kids//im done-wit..this lifestyle-im-livin// wanna slit my wrist wit this knife-file-im-grippin..or take this strapim holdin-right-now// put to my scull and blow-my-lights-out..it would be myself that i-offed// but it would put an end to this madness and that my life and my-thoughts..
CHORUS:
this is my-life, my-thoughts// i tried-life, it died-off..but i still live-my-life and think my-thoughts// i wish-i'd-rise but i know i'll-die wit titles unknown on my-songs
