We are the facilitators of our own creation

They’re aiming for the sane
We’re aiming to only astound
Aiming for the profound
Ditching the scope to point blank the right now
Ditching all my hope
Sniffing all my coke
Fuck the direction off life so it never really knows where it’s going.
Throw thirty bags in the air
Look baby it’s snowing
Look baby I’m hoping
Look baby I may be crook and shady but I tend to keep that tight thing flowing
Waterfalls waterfalls
I’m floating in your waterfalls
After-all we’re just some young people who fucking know it all
Chasing dreams
High from weed
Running but we’re loving
Every little inch of it
Never know what pen to pick, when I write this intricate
When I write this spoken word, my brain just gets to ultra nerd
My brain just gets to focus worse
These thoughts will never stop
These thoughts more useless than the Bible I keep on my bedside surface top
But just like my Bible, they help me understand who’s real or not
I lay in bed and hold my head
Quiet my thoughts with stupid shit
Hoping one day I’ll be super rich
Like that fucking matters
We all saw what money did to the great Marshall Mathers
I’m about to dump my own body in this foreign lake
My own body but in a foreign state
My own body in a foreign place
Blood all over my boot
Blood all over my boots
Should have known that with that gun I was only going to shoot
Should have known Lord that if you strip me of life I will only return to loot
Now people are finding out that I’m into this music shit.
I don’t need your nod of approval to know that you are feeling it
For only a select few only know what it is I feel
For the rest of you, eat my dick like them yellow fruits you peel.
Real.