(38) K-Town Vibez II-IX, MMXVI @ 8:59pm

My ash tray full of burnt cigarettes.

Early in the morning dealing with regrets.

Lungs burning from ripping bongs.

Heads banging, bumping gangster songs.

I’m under the influence in K-Town.

This is my life above ground.

These demons may have won this time.

I’ll deal with them after I finish this rhyme.

I need help for all the hell I raised.

My conscience stares back face to face.

My reflection portrays resentment.

My heart is dealing with the consequences.

Truthfully, I fear rehabilitation.

I don’t have any motivation.

It’s my life at this point.

Lighting up another joint.

I feel like my life’s a fucking mess.

Failed suicide attempts due to stress.

My rage is vibrant, I’m losing all hope.

Not to mention, I’m losing myself to dope.

What do I do now?

I need to move on but I don’t know how.

I’m so lost in life, where do I go?

I just want to disappear with my bro.

I’m fighting to the very end.

I believe there’s always hope, amen.

It’s hard not having anything.

It’s difficult not having everything.

Nevertheless;

I remain consuming contraband and brew.

I do it endlessly to avoid feeling blue.

Despite heavy discretion, my family knew.

I drink first and ask questions later.

I have no friends, they’re all traitors.

I lost my financial stability.

I made it this far, it’s my ability.

I’m nothing but a piece of shit.

I’m alone in this path, ready to quit.

Drunk and angry every single night.

Isolated pupil since the first time I got high.

I don’t drink for fun.

I drink to feel loose like I’m on the run.

My nose burns from that excessive line.

I ruined my life but at least I’m high.

Reclining with my car in park, lighters spark.

Like my soul, my personality is dark.

Snorting away my morals and self respect.

Time is the one thing I truly neglect.