music
I May Be Lost, but I’m Not a Lost Cause
You never were a beer drinker,
Now your heart’s as hard as hard liquor.
A thousand cuts on my body,
you’re worth it.
I may be lost, but I’m not a lost cause.
Tell me all the things that I’m not.
I had a plan for us.
Why do I stand for this?
Now I don’t trust boys
that don’t kiss boys.
Wounds heal
but scars stay,
and I’m better without you anyway.
On the court I got a million looks,
even as my game dissolves to gray.
With you gone I feel like a million bucks-
the fakest of the fake.
Out the cold dark place I cut my teeth,
I’m finally Rich-
Chief Keef.
Now honesty’s a bad machine
when the only thing about your life that’s clean
is the bourbon that you order neat.
Keep pullin’ from the well of
emotional bankruptcy.
Tell me all the things that I’m not.
I had a plan for us.
Why do I stand for this?
Now I don’t trust boys
that don’t kiss boys.
Wounds heal
but scars stay,
and I’m better without you anyway.
On the court I got a million looks,
even as my game dissolves to gray.
With you gone I feel like a million bucks-
the fakest of the fake.
Out the cold dark place I cut my teeth,
I’m finally Rich-
Chief Keef.
Sincerely, the Imposter
My capacity’s diminished in the last five years.
Stopped drinkin’ beer.
Wish I could bottle fear.
You took my favorite gray sweater with the coffee stain-
single origin.
You were my original sin.
Tear up, tear down.
Cheer up, fuck yeah.
Now this transparent heart’s got scars;
you threw my stuff in the yard
and you took the car.
Had a bird in the hand that’s now a bloody paste
and a quivering yellow wing.
It’s the time we’ve lost ignoring what we got that stings
the most.
Tear up, tear down.
Cheer up, fuck yeah.
Now this transparent heart’s got scars;
you threw my stuff in the yard
and you took the car.
Criterion DVDs and books I’ll never read.
Stacks of unwrapped CDs-
I’m a series of incompletes.
I scroll through my TV,
can’t commit to three
minutes of anything.
So I’ll start, and I’ll stop everything.
And I’m afraid I’ll die
with roots in nothing.
Is that the American dream?
A life without meaning
despite years of awkwardly trying.
I still feel young enough,
but too old to be good enough,
or at least to start again.
I’m a newspaper, out of print.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
is this how great men fall?
And if I was ever great
is the greatest mystery of all.
And if I should die before I wake,
my kids will have these songs to take
the decisions that I’ve made
and make their own ones better.
Sincerely the imposter,
I hope I was at least a father
Everyone Has a Plan Until They Get Punched in the Mouth
God bless the backwards parkers,
for they know not what they do.
They think they’re saving time but they’re blind-
it’s takin’ five fuckin’ minutes for this guy to park his white car.
And now I’m late for our appointment;
betcha thought I wouldn’t be there anyway.
So I’ll stay gridlocked,
up in this lot.
While the guy in the white car takes his time.
Sincerely yours,
I see it written in the stars.
There’s a special place for stupid,
(wish there was a better place for scars).
Is this how we make decisions?
Relationships to politics,
when our flawed cockpit logic
can’t even make sense of traffic,
we love to spin our plates till they break.
Now I know you don’t understand me-
I’m picking up the clues,
I’m old news – rear view mirror.
I see it all so clearly.
But still you do not see me,
I’m right here but you don’t see me.
God bless the boisterous laughers,
for they know not what they do.
They laugh and then look at you
like you’re obliged to follow suit.
How quickly things get uncomfortable,
and I feel judged for being anti-social,
when it really just wasn’t funny.
I’m just tryna hear that Kid Cudi banger.
Sincerely yours,
I see it written in the stars.
There’s a special place for stupid,
(wish there was a better place for scars).
Is this how we make decisions?
Relationships to politics,
when our flawed cockpit logic…
And so I’m neck deep trapped in this parking lot,
passion, pain, and demon slayin’.
Got my anxiety, and Kid Cudi,
content to dream about a world where
I’m seen.
When the Panic Sets In
I’m hyper-aware of my vision.
It’s something like a band with a singer you hate.
I can’t get past it.
How long will it last if
I think I’m goin’ blind this time,
then I think I’m gonna die tonight
when the panic sets in?
And the Ativan.
I think I’m goin’ blind this time.
I’m walking with one eye open.
Still something like a band with a singer you hate.
The world is a blur,
and I’m obsessively concerned.
I think I’m goin’ blind this time,
then I think I’m gonna die tonight
when the panic sets in.
And the Ativan.
I’m on appointment 23.
The doctors all think I’m crazy.
Of course I’m losing this battle awkwardly.
Carefully design my own misery
with a watchmaker’s hands.
As it stands my life is like
when a plane lands and
you can’t get up.
You feel stuck
watchin’ all the baggage fall.
A love resurrected
was never a love at all?
How far can we fall-
so close to the ground?
Another Casualty of Algorithms
Have you ever known what it’s like
to need a fresh start?
You spend years in your car then you ride a bike.
Go zero carbs then a sugar spike.
It’s like everything you’re missin’.
You’re lookin’ but you ain’t listenin’.
Another casualty of algorithms
and indecision.
I’m just tellin’ it like it is.
We’re just the holes around the dartboard
markin’ misses,
and if we never failed then I don’t know
what this is.
Your scrolling game looks clutch.
Bet your thumb’s been gettin’ more action than I’ve seen in months.
You’re here, but I still feel stood up.
I liked you better with no makeup.
Have you ever known what it’s like
to lose that certain spark
with that certain someone and grow apart?
A discarded car in a trailer park.
It’s like everything you’re missin’.
You’re lookin’ but you ain’t listenin’.
Another casualty of algorithms
and indecision.
I’m just tellin’ it like it is.
We’re just the holes around the dartboard
markin’ misses,
and if we never failed then i don’t know
what this is.
Drowning stars,
cover your scars with talcum and tar.
How did we get here?
Suffocating under fear.
Sticky L.A. countertops and
the smell of stale beer
seem so sweet compared to this-
our present defeat
in ignorance bliss.
Guess I get no second at bat-
just a swing and a miss.
Cuz sometimes broken can’t be fixed.
Yeah sugar, you’re saccharine.
Your scrolling game looks clutch,
Bet your thumb’s been gettin’ more action than I’ve seen in months.
You’re here, but I still feel stood up.
I liked you better with no makeup
I Can Count My True Friends on One Hand
Life goes by like a fever dream.
Woke up I was 43.
God I wish I was 17.
I’d pull a page from his playbook-
take back every moment you took.
Truth is that I’m older now.
I can’t escape all the cards I’ve been dealt.
Sincerely hope that your life’s been hell.
And if it hasn’t then let me know,
I’d be glad to help.
Wings won’t fly
when the guts of this bird’s been distilled o’er a thousand times.
This house is boarded up;
the windows permanently shut.
If I could, would I kiss you?
Wish I would’ve known what I know now.
Feel like I’d regret so much less now.
If I could, would I kiss you?
Sparklehorse, The God Machine, Cannibal Ox, Ink & Dagger.
Our backs to the tarmac
while we staggered
under a blood moon.
I want my records back.
I want my records back.
But I’m a walking dichotomy.
The only person I hurt is me.
Marc Jacobs with a Dark Throne tee.
The page in this playbook’s called
“Middle-Aged Me”.
Wings won’t fly
when the guts of this bird’s been distilled o’er a thousand times.
This house is boarded up.
I want my records back.
Ones and Zeros
Got my kid a swing coach yesterday-
increased my masculinity.
I’m breeding super star athletes.
Fuck yeah.
Domesticated with bare feet,
unless we’re cookin’ with fire and meat.
I smash the ends of Piccolo Petes-
Hell yeah.
I’m just one of the guys.
But I love Tommy Genesis.
I love all things feminine.
Am I even half a man?
If I could do it all over again,
would I wanna be more masculine?
Make it my life’s work to measure my dick?
Feelin’ insecure without a clique.
Give no attempt at emotion.
I love Dove Cameron.
I buy pink in everythin’.
Electra Dorian.
And I read Vogue magazin’.
Got my kid a swing coach yesterday-
increased my masculinity.
I’m breeding super star athletes.
Fuck yeah.
I wanna throw the ball around.
Drivin’ a truck ain’t quite enough.
Destroyin’ property for fun-
Hell yeah.
I’m just one of the guys.
But I love Tommy Genesis.
I love all things feminine.
Am I even half a man?
If I could do it all over again,
would I wanna be more masculine?
Make it my life’s work to measure my dick?
Feelin’ insecure without a clique.
Give no attempt at emotion.
The Burden of My Sins
This house is cool,
I’ll miss it.
I’m packin’ up my shit and
moving on.
I was wrong.
The dishes are pilin’ up and
this debilitating depression’s sinkin’ in,
n’ it’s not fair that you bear
the burden of my sins.
This yellow house is cool-
I remember when we built it.
The hollow tree still lays outside,
swallowed up by Texas mint and jasmine vines.
Listen in and you’ll hear the glistenin’
bodies of goldfish in boxes,
buried ‘round the yard-
a testament to
the times we tried
to get the water right;
but it went out of balance,
just like you and I.
We can’t sustain those somethings
that come from nothings
or patch the cracks as they persist.
It’s the Myth of Sisyphus,
but without the rocks.
Blue birds against green moss.
That shiny new thing with the greatest cost;
a moment of dopamine and a lifetime of loss.
So I’ll drown myself in Rosalia records,
try to salvage the kind of youth
I’ve come accustomed to with
my two daughters raised on Taylor Swift.
They’ll be stronger than I am now.
Those old stories they don’t work no more Hank.
It’s Aaliyah I need to thank,
and Banoffee, Hannah, Sophie, and Charli,
Dawn and Danity, Dinah, Fifth Harmony.
Their stories resonate with me, they write the roadmap
to follow my dreams and be a better me-
one that sheds the persistent fear of dying at 43.
If girls just wanna have fun,
then so do I.
Diamond Life 2 (Ca$h Ironic)
words by Lord Byron
Platinum and gold, I got platinum clothes,
like I’m Puffy and Mase, Mason mar on my hoes.
But the games that we play, never gave us a role.
Now the rolls that we push,
came pushing front rows.
We got different agendas,
came from different placentas,
now I sit in the center- like when Kobe was sinning.
Cinnamon for my dinner, I got too many women,
swap 'em out like some sprinters,
get prepared for the winter.
I’m embarking on fame.
I got some greedy family members,
I’m changing my name, I move with the flame.
I got biscuits remember-
killing niggas like Popeye's,
them biscuits not tender,
I’ll get you dismembered.
I got lucrative ties, move with loot in my eyes,
saw the lies that you told, I wasn’t too surprised.
I’ve gotten scrutinized,
for the truths that I’ve told,
bitches look and behold,
take a jet to the store.
Platinum and Gold, I got platinum hoes,
like Busta with Janet- had to manage the stove.
Smoking L’s like I’m cold- niggas barely that cool.
When u making a move?
When they shoot up a school?
I’ve had debt since a child-
government owned that pussy.
Living life like we wild-
of course we want the cookie.
What u mean u are great? Aren’t u black in the face?
Didn’t u come from the mud; built a hut for your place?
Ha isn’t that funny, how we pouring up Ace;
four more for my forefathers who walked in the place,
four coroners in four corners my necks a disgrace,
44 hummers packed outside like 2008.
I love rocking these chains-
that don’t make me a slave;
I put gold in my ear, shed a tear I’m in shame.
I wanting bigger things,
lift my head to the sky, inhale toxins of hate,
then read a lullaby.
The necklace is sweet, like a speculaas-
a spec of dust is what you is next to us;
Testing us is the wrong move- a spoon or a harpoon.
I’m feeding niggas shrooms and locking 'em in a dark room.
60 G Vallaton sitting next my son,
Went and picked up a skill just to put down the gun.
80 G Basquiat sitting next to my son,
Would've went with the Haring but gotta present my young.
50 G Edvard Munch sitting next to my son,
He don't know the value of art so he's poking it
with his thumb,
90 G Kerry James sitting next to my son,
Would've went with the Gorky but gotta present my young.
Makaveli holes in both hands,
Stacking fetti hoes in both hands,
Trickling through the states, whipping through newer plates-
My colleagues are all Somali pirates and clones.
It doesn't matter what you do with your fate,
if your money's right?
You could buy a new face if you want.
I zone out like a idiot savant,
when I'm off the purple elephant trunk-
a more devilish Trump.
80 above and I'm looking out the skyscraper,
thinking bout love
and my diamonds are a ice breaker.
She said "Baby why you hate country music for?"
I said "Cause I was in the country selling 2 for 4s",
Willy Way art on my wall; hit a button do a cartwheel;
the bitch body like a Barbie doll.
What more can I say? We killing 'em,
as the time starts to unwind on the pendulum.
Look at the emblem- it's a Dolfin with a dorsal fin.
Is that who I think it is, bitch of course it is..
Hair getting longer.
Weed getting stronger.
Ice in my veins that resemble tha body armor,
Looking through these frames,
I could see he was facing karma.
Eating through his brains thy resemble the Jeffery Dahmer.
I Got Secrets
Sad girls might be freaky,
but I’m ready to rule the world,
cuz bad boys like it fishy-
definitely not like other girls.
You don’t know it,
I’m a hornet,
I'm about to sting.
And she basic,
now you’re lacin’ like LeBron for me.
You wanna know why?
I got secrets.
Ooh, boy, I’mma level up,
let’s level up.
I’mma level up.
I got secrets.
Can’t hold me back, can’t hold me down.
There is no blind materialism can take this
confidence crown.
You got Prada for hands.
You got Fendi for eyes.
You got that confident smile,
cuz you’re living your best life.
Girls they want to be me,
but I’m just doing what I do-
I’m throwing bands like Kylie.
The boys they showin’ up in twos.
You don’t know it,
I’m a hornet,
I'm about to sting.
And she basic,
now you’re lacin’ like LeBron for me.
And you still wanna know why.
Ooh, boy, I’mma level up,
let’s level up.
I’mma level up.
I got secrets.
Can’t hold me back, can’t hold me down.
There is no blind materialism can take this
confidence crown.
You got Prada for hands.
You got Fendi for eyes.
You got that confident smile,
cuz you’re living your best life.
I got secrets.
Can’t hold me back, can’t hold me down.
There is no blind materialism can take this
confidence crown.
You got Prada for hands.
You got Fendi for eyes.
You got that confident smile,
cuz you’re living your best life.