Depresso

Should I drink? Should I drive?

Should I survive? Should I look for the beauty to thrive?

I’m shook by life, will it make it better if I write?

If I diet, if I cry about it, if I lie about it?

What makes it better? Is it a 66 love letters

Wrote by many ancesters, hoping that we would be real trendsetters.

I feel like my life is amounting to a few falling feathers,

Hoping that someone will treasure it and I won’t be a man that’s lesser

Lesser than what I am now, what I am now in my mind.

My minds worth goes up and down like a rollercoaster

My mind goes bang bang, whenever my hand hits the holster

Says some nasty things to myself, it gets very vulgar.

It makes my stomach hurl, like I love this girl but I hate it whenever I’m not with her,

Is it anxiety? Is it the anticipation of something bad happening?

Wish that friends could replace the feelings she gives but it ain’t the same,

They’re all lame, it ain’t the same.

 

I’m shook, I’m shook, I’m shook by life.

I’m shook! Why does it all feel the same?

And like I can’t do anything right?

 

Ooh ooh ahh