Snare Drum
This anxiety, always inside of me
I know what I'm supposed to be
I flow cuz I'm focused, true to these
Proof of concept receipts
I keep reading, seeking plays to exceed
My social side is in defeat
Maybe I should cut my hair
Everyone's focused on clothes they wear
I'm into accolades and reasons to care
This snare, conform, but beware
With each move, you lose, a piece of who
You were, it's foolish really, kill your identity
For a bigger chance at the moneys
Then do nothing with it
Cuz you killed your
Potential along with your dreams
Forget a rhyme scheme, I'm feeling
Some powerful things
Cuz income brings the snare drum
So I'm stuck, being the lame one
Until I can break free of some
Of these, antiquated regulations
Cuz income, makes the differunce
So I'm stuck, getting it buck by buck
I break free, for me, no use for these
Antiquated regulations
It may seem like I think the rules don't apply to me
On the contrary, I visualized who I ought to be
I am my own brand, so when I think aesthetically
Fat mo'fuckers don't got many options appealing
Short and stout? Big ol' beard
Hide that chubby chin, don't remind them
Facial hair concealing, no revealing
The insecurity constantly feeding
This is petty, stupid, silly, I'm a little bit freaking out
Internally, all you know is this front that's me
I started cycling, eating less
But the struggle with my diet
I was bulimic for years, the compliments, success
Both business and sex, don't you tell me vanity don't exist
Having man tits, don't exactly make for desire
No bit lips, say what you will about that trip
I'm no longer on that tip, but the stress hits
My body sends no signal to quit eating
These dinner engagements make me so anxious
Don't want to be the fatty, gorging away happily
My thoughts get all chatty, I get lost in all this toxic
My thoughts are sick, I work to become stronger
Kick em, but happiness is not a fish I'm familiar with
What's the worth of all this accomplishment
If the mirror can destroy my esteem in a fucking minute
Damn, this manifested different than I envisioned
I'm feeling some powerful things
Cuz income brings the snare drum
So I'm stuck, being the lame one
Until I can break free of some
Of these, antiquated regulations
Cuz income, makes the differunce
So I'm stuck, getting it buck by buck
I break free, for me, no use for these
Antiquated regulations
I fucking pray I find through serendipity
Some message, something riveting
Hope trickling uh
Shed the tears, Fuck the cost
Go in with everything I've got
These rules are rules, whining will not
Be conducive to anything but rot
I can't escape these thoughts
But I can own how much they talk
Power is mine, hours go by
As these mountains I climb
Will not stop me
Though the hits amount to a lot
My strength drops
Those fantasies about a gun cocked
In my mouth, seem to have stopped for now
My knowledge slowly becomes paramount
To keeping me grounded
I'm going in on this fucking round
Because I can't handle the idea of my clout
Returning to degenerate, a slimy prowl
Lately I win through genuine consideration
Patience, effort and the fear of what'd become
If I slipped up, returned to old engagements
Endless rumination and self-hatred, Nope
I will do whatever the fuck needs to be done
Coping that it's no sprint, this the marathon
I know what I'm supposed to be
I flow cuz I'm focused, true to these
Proof of concept receipts
I keep reading, seeking plays to exceed
My social side is in defeat
Maybe I should cut my hair
Everyone's focused on clothes they wear
I'm into accolades and reasons to care
This snare, conform, but beware
With each move, you lose, a piece of who
You were, it's foolish really, kill your identity
For a bigger chance at the moneys
Then do nothing with it
Cuz you killed your
Potential along with your dreams
Forget a rhyme scheme, I'm feeling
Some powerful things
Cuz income brings the snare drum
So I'm stuck, being the lame one
Until I can break free of some
Of these, antiquated regulations
Cuz income, makes the differunce
So I'm stuck, getting it buck by buck
I break free, for me, no use for these
Antiquated regulations
It may seem like I think the rules don't apply to me
On the contrary, I visualized who I ought to be
I am my own brand, so when I think aesthetically
Fat mo'fuckers don't got many options appealing
Short and stout? Big ol' beard
Hide that chubby chin, don't remind them
Facial hair concealing, no revealing
The insecurity constantly feeding
This is petty, stupid, silly, I'm a little bit freaking out
Internally, all you know is this front that's me
I started cycling, eating less
But the struggle with my diet
I was bulimic for years, the compliments, success
Both business and sex, don't you tell me vanity don't exist
Having man tits, don't exactly make for desire
No bit lips, say what you will about that trip
I'm no longer on that tip, but the stress hits
My body sends no signal to quit eating
These dinner engagements make me so anxious
Don't want to be the fatty, gorging away happily
My thoughts get all chatty, I get lost in all this toxic
My thoughts are sick, I work to become stronger
Kick em, but happiness is not a fish I'm familiar with
What's the worth of all this accomplishment
If the mirror can destroy my esteem in a fucking minute
Damn, this manifested different than I envisioned
I'm feeling some powerful things
Cuz income brings the snare drum
So I'm stuck, being the lame one
Until I can break free of some
Of these, antiquated regulations
Cuz income, makes the differunce
So I'm stuck, getting it buck by buck
I break free, for me, no use for these
Antiquated regulations
I fucking pray I find through serendipity
Some message, something riveting
Hope trickling uh
Shed the tears, Fuck the cost
Go in with everything I've got
These rules are rules, whining will not
Be conducive to anything but rot
I can't escape these thoughts
But I can own how much they talk
Power is mine, hours go by
As these mountains I climb
Will not stop me
Though the hits amount to a lot
My strength drops
Those fantasies about a gun cocked
In my mouth, seem to have stopped for now
My knowledge slowly becomes paramount
To keeping me grounded
I'm going in on this fucking round
Because I can't handle the idea of my clout
Returning to degenerate, a slimy prowl
Lately I win through genuine consideration
Patience, effort and the fear of what'd become
If I slipped up, returned to old engagements
Endless rumination and self-hatred, Nope
I will do whatever the fuck needs to be done
Coping that it's no sprint, this the marathon
Credits
Writer(s): Holden Roy
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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