8ighth - Live, Die and Recycle

We live and die and recycle, the prisons high with the spiteful
My vision spied on a future, where written lies I recite will bring me good fortune
One I can't handle alone
Why I'm fearing how mom handle her tone, sandals come on, she struggle in pain
Her spirit bright as the sun, while she cuddle the rain, using her smile to hide all the tears, but the puddle remain
Age is subtle to gain, ain't no rebuttals when angels huddle, they bubble the name, the gates wide
Hair getting more on the gray side
Out where the gray dried
Dreaming of living the Jay and the Bey side
Oracle Bayside
Question rhetorical, I know the day I
Pile on the debt til I pay my
Owed amount, my account, will make sure she can watch the day fly
The least I could give her because since I came out her rib
Her life wasn't easy to manage we sharing frozens for dinner
Pops was cheap and abusive, I guess his woes had him bitter
He email sending excuses claim he's exposing a sinner
Momma reading all the shit that he send her hoping to get her
Only son to reach back out, not defend her, because I'm not in her shoes
Scared he'll lose his life, no one knows it
Becaude we can't pick and choose who share our DNA
But these moments leave me a bit confused, because you ain't healthy either
You ain't healthy either
Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, know the smell is unsettling
I've been scraping it by with the rats and where wheels of metal spin
It's hard to hear with this subways loud instrumental in
Any food you can bless might oppress what's gonna let the devil in
Even if my kid at homes is just a story I bet you still would ignore me
While thinking poor me, the poor me though
Watch you bumping Tory, so you ain't hearing me say it
Your favorite song you'll replay it, while I go stare at mosaics
From the bench on eighty-first street
The kids record me, it irks me, but pride aside, really hurts me
If Father God made us children then why the fuck he deserts me
I'm abusing these drugs because ain't no truth where the church be, least in my eyes
Street full of the tye dye, this isn't sci-fi
There ain't no heroes, just abusive force that we abide by
That badge a privilege, like there ain't enough for those with sky eyes
You can't see us eye to eye with us inside the sky rise
But your heads even down on the train with me, like seven up
Tattered clothes, splattered with stains as I take the seven up
Hearing homie talk with his mother while mine disowned me
I'm lonely and stare and wonder if only God would've told me, I'd be here

Written by:
Walid Ibrahim

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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