My made mind matters me, mostly momentarily Always looking for names, hooked on and aimedWith lines keeping faces looking puzzled and agedRhymes stuck in a place where they stopped to amazeWith rappers only rapping for the money and fameNo love for the game..'Cause love's gone looking for somebody elseStuck in a pondering cell, wondering whenSomething can oversee her faults and start to love her againProbably never..I'm just tired to find the solution, time and conclusionToo tired to write lines and rhymes, too tired to produce 'emA lost of interest, interjected with an inner senseThat's been grubbling my mind ever since last winter breakTired of being the same little, aged, crippled manStuck at the bottom, just not never feeling anything..or simply feeling too muchStill!
tack, fint med lite respons nångång ibland
that same ol' gonna-check-it-out-later-no-time-now kommentaren låter ju fint iaf... upp
upp, whoa är skumt asså
last timeup in thisup this shit