Maybe I write what I see, maybe my eyesight is weak.
Maybe I try to be right 'bout the things that are 'posed to be faulty, invalid, amiss.
Maybe I write with my right hand and that's the only right that you'll find in my writs (Yeah).
Maybe I'm planning of heaven and that too in devil's abyss.
Maybe I'm catching 'flu', that is why I can't just 'smell' the truth.
Who nose (knows)?
But I am not faking at all, that's it.
All coming straight from my heart.
Agree, That I'm flawed, be mistaking alot
But the fact is: I am like, "Very good"
When people be pointing out one bad, ignoring my many goods
Deep inside, my head is shook.
It's like, I'm having a parachute,
Jump from the height, then I find that it's not in the bag that I carried through.
Instead, in the bag that I handed to-
Someone else, cause he had-
in, no parachute, my wannabe sympathetic-ass
did him gratitude, for his help
By risking myself. Panicked, screwed.
If you know what I mean.
No. But, I think-
I should stop.
