Eating Me Alive

Yeah
Yeah
Making it is eating me alive
I can't remember when the thought didn't enter my head
It's tearing me up inside
I'll keep grinding, yeah
Hoping one day it'll be my time
Writing clever lines, showing different sides, just to be denied
Making songs is starting to feel like a hamster wheel
Going round and round
But it feels like I'm not going nowhere still
I'm trying to stay positive, have that energy like Phil
Dunphy, fuck selling my soul but I probably would kill
Thinking of rhymes when I'm on dates
Got to write that shit down before it's too late
I needed some time off after making 'Suffering In Silence'
Because digging into the trauma long enough
Is enough for anyone to break
I wake up, think of ways to get noticed, promote and repeat
Lucky I'm not expecting anything from this
Otherwise I'll accept defeat
But seriously fuck the system, It's so unrewarding it's insane
I just want the satisfaction of saying I made it, that's all I seek
I overthink, my mind is spiralling
Asking myself "Have I done enough?" The work is piling
The independent journey, doing this all on my own
Recording in a bedroom with a shit mic, so inspiring
I'm just another sad white boy who wants to be a rapper
Have you got room for one more?
I haven't got a lot to say half the time
But I make my own shit
And I got so much left in store
But it's so tiring having to promote, promote, promote
Just so I can in the future gloat, gloat, gloat
Of course I fantasize about being the goat
But will it live up to the hype?
I don't know, I will let that soak
Like I said, making it is always on my mind
Even when the lights are out it takes over my dreams
What's the meaning of success if it's eating me alive
And when the day comes it's not even as good as it seems?
Fuck