War With Myself lyrics

[Verse 1]

Holy sh*t, you should see the state I’m rhyming in
My bedroom so f*cking filthy I can’t even find a thing
All I can see is my beat pad all lit up
And a half written song, I guess I was fed up
Don’t surprise me, that’s not cos I am a perfectionist
It’s cos I work on my own terms, call me a secessionist
I definitely know I write rap better than I rap right?
My flow so foolish, but I’m fresh like a White Knight
I’m so old news like you should see my boat shoes
I’m so authentic, you could buy my sh*t at whole foods
But for now you can just download it from Sound Cloud
Say my name and hip-hop together and try not laugh out loud
I’m drunk and I’m rhyming man I ain’t even trying man, which probably goes to show
Why no one who has heard my sh*t lost their head like Sleepy Hollow

[Verse 2]
Jesus, he sucks, I’m sipping on a frozen Martini
It’s my apocalypse now ain’t you Martin Sheen me?
Palindrome, I’m Big Gib, no need for a pedestal
Teaching degree but I never went to school
Hey that’s cool mister, I want to be like you Sir
Never Dumb It Down, spit it like a Lu tongue Twister
At war with myself, only have two states of mind
Paralytic or hung-over cos I’m drunk all the time
I just wish I was able to pull myself together
Lock ears and Lock leers of passers by like Heather
Girls calling me the breeze cos I come and go
Everyone high on me cos I got a dope flow
Or maybe I’m just putting them to sleep
They think I’m f*cking Silverchair, cos I’m a freak
Trust me, I am a freak
I’m a mute like Gambino, man I do not speak
I am a freak, trust me
Trust me
[Verse 3]

The reverend ask the question is pop culture still that relevant?
The power is yours if you just combine all the elements
Or are you kids anger suppressed and depressed like petulant?
Is that why you p*ssing gold on the mic like berroca is your excrement?
f*ck you, f*ck your tumblr, f*ck your instagram, f*ck your twitter
f*ck every social handle you have, you anhedonic transmitter
Every thing you re-blog is so stupidly bitter
Only depressed cos of the sh*t you surround yourself with all rigor no vigor
When I die f*ck it, I want my Facebook deactivated
Cos constantly seeing these R.I.P messages has got me f*cking aggravated
Look at all these liars man they’re so f*cking shameless
Nobody cares what I have to say, cause I am not famous
Holy sh*t, you should see the state I’m rhyming in
I’d like to say I’m drunk but I’m barely tipsy off these nine dollar Heinekens
If anything I’m f*cking angry man, that’s how I feel all the time
Sick of seeing fools ahead of me like I’m Frank Grimes
So I’m taking these shots of jaeger and Drambuie
And it’s got me feeling a little spewy
Aw f*ck, this isn’t the come up I was hoping for
Now I can add vomit to the list-a-sh*t that’s on my floor