They won’t Van Gogh me
They hardly know me
Might have seen me outside like socially
My words come out clumsy
Make me sound bummy
My thoughts be like poetry
And when it comes down to it, separates me from phonies
But sometimes it’s lonely
Haha, suicide in this bitch
Don’t go backward, nigga
Just in general, remind me
Don’t no one love you but your mama
Once you dead
It’s beautiful, just don’t stop being you
It’s okay, whatever day you remember this
Used to be ugly
Now I’m a handsome, Charlie Manson
Wrapped in a Snuggie
Sometimes I’m funny
But if you study
The rhymes that I dictate, in time, you’ll grow to love me
Then we’ll be buddies
And furthermore
I would argue that the more they tell you that they hate you
The more they actually love you
The more real estate you ‘ought be part of in their mind
I know it’s confusing and contradictory
But all things are
That’s kinda just life, you know?
It’s that serious
You shoulda told me, “I was sad to hold you”
What?
Also read these
