ah fuck. sorry thats a "bad word".

mom and dad are on my dick bout everything i fucking do

"what you want out of life its all up to fucking you"

it doesn't seem like that these days cant even walk down the avenue

with out you following me in the car

waiting for me to raise the bar

so u can take me home again

take away what ever's left

wouldn't approve of my grooves

wouldn't approve of the fumes

I've wanted to inhale since i was 12 years old

but i've never got the chance. and you wouldn't even belive.

i've withhold

my talents for far too long

i wanna scream and shout every single fucking song i've written

but i can't

restrictions, restrictions

it seems thats all i have these days

lately my life's been a haze

of a skitzofrenik phase

you've brought on me

as i get older and bolder i just get sadder and sadder

every time that you talk

i just get madder and madder

you can't over look that this is talented matter

but i cant even look at some porn with out my parents flipping shit

its a conflicting twist

on one hand i love them but on the other hand Im just so pissed

what kind of life is this for a fourteen year old

already hating shit and pissing off and cutting wrists

i cant sell my soul to the devil cuz i gave it to a homeless prick

for a pack of cigarettes

nah but i fucking wish

im screaming to the fucking sky

i just wanna fucking die

god replys by saying that he wishes i would, hes tryed and tryed

to help me commit suicide

but i pussy out every single time

with some adhd pills

in my hand theres a nine

the trigger feels nice

in my fingers but i

cant do this shit, im too fucking talented

and im too fucking pussy its another flaw in my design

if they saw this shit they'd probably try to talk to me

and tell me that its out of love that they're stalking me

and mom would sit there quietly and dad would make me finally

snap!

...and start crying cuz i have no fucking privacy

im losing my vitality

god damn it feels so good to get this off my chest

if i told anyone else they would tell me im depressed

and send me to a fucking shrink where i would have to confess

everything i've ever felt

so has every body else

they just keep it bottled up and keep it on a higher shelf

i dont even have one of those

i share my room with four bros

and every time i hear my moms phone ring

i know theyre discussing new ways to shape me up

keep me out of danger and make me love

school and friends and kittens like i did when i was nine

i guess that age was fine but that was a long time

ago

ive changed

and so have they

just a whiney emo kid getting pissed off

but i have the balls to say it all of you dont talk

i speak my mind with an upside down cross

on my back pack and grip tape. they made me take it off.

they found a couple cammel asses i didnt even smoke

i also failed a couple classes so they think that im just a joke

they think that im slacking off

cuz i spend my days jacking off

yeah they seen my report card but they've yet to hear my rapping ah...

i dont really think they'd aprove....

do you?

its raw feelings and emotions

thats the point of art isnt it?