No Sympathy (RapPad Cypher)

i work 8 hours a day,/ at a job that I hate/, to keep clothes on my back/,

and to put food on my plate, /I buy things I don't need to feel some form of

success,/ or to feel normal I guess,/ because I'm normally stressed,/ borderline

schizoprancic with anxiety,/ i diagnose my self cuz i cannot let them lie to me/

, paranoid i start to panic when a side of, takes over and goes manic towards

society, I'd rather die than be, a conformist, im an individual, reality is swarming,

and its critical, that I end up hitting the pinnacle, a sinical, critical prick, could've

been the prophet that god sent (nonsense) I'm twisted, sadistic, demented, but

that side is hidden, decendant of satan 8ikhimself, attempt to repent, but the

hatred is hell and I'm waiting as well, for the day of farewell I'm mentally secluded,

wish to be reputed as the greatest but those dreams are of yesterdays illusion,

I'm a nuisance and I know this, a hopeless broken poet, as soon as I noticed my

flo was this potent I focused and told my life story in the matter of moments, I am

the golden age, won't decay like the black locust, I'm goin' somewhere far,

holding the world up on my shoulders, hoping the globe will follow me like I'm the

modern day Moses, I suppose the closest I've come to hopelessness is knowing

this: the world won't ever know of this, because most of my songs won't ever be

released until I'm deceased and am able to leave a piece of me up on these beats,

as a legacy, the likes of which you've never seen, the best of me has left the rest

of me to battle breathlessly, and honestly, I really ain't missing me, just a soldier,

in the war of my own infamy, finish me, no sympathy.