I was lost on a dark vibe.
Assisted by pills I found a toxic place to chill.
I also fed these inner lurking demons.
Those goofy guys led me on a restless frenzy like search for revenue and drugs.
I still wasn't a thug I was just hurt by twisted love.
Doing what I wanted thats my label I lay at the table.
I won't claim anything else.
Because the facts are it isn't one hundred.
Meaning I can't represent a me that never was truly me.
Excuse the street slang it was the only way to tell of my dark times.
Survived by a thread I could visualize putting a bullet to a man's head.
My animosity frightened me what is this anger I fight and keep in its place?
When somebody touches me why did I fight back aiming to see much of their blood.
I gave violence a share of my mind.
I've been in plenty of fights in my young time.
I gave idiotic notions the key to unlock imbelical actions.
Reckless young kid living like an armys at my back running for my life.
Treating even my closest loved ones as if...