Type 1

I'm that spun of a gun, primed blast son of a gun and it's not even loaded
Never liked math, but wasn't dumb. Just the unsolved problem I must have become

Bipolar, what you know about that? When mics ta hold up, it's out of my control
But trust your gut, yeah right, better doubt that

One day I take aim at unknown once. That same day I take aim ta brain and wanna go
Buck right out back, mood swings hit harder than primed Mike Tyson fist
On a rollercoaster every minute of every day. Can I get off this ride right quick
One day circadian rhythm is in alignment. That same day all feelings diminished

I feel quite lifeless, manic facade. Depressive faults, one minute over expressive
The next I second guess what I talk. Work is hard to do when you feel like sacrificing yourself
Without voodoo attention I think not. Mania, too much attention, think I'm a god
Over all dimensions

I'm that spun of a gun. Primed blast son of a gun and it's not even loaded
Never liked math, but wasn't dumb. Just the unsolved problem I must have become

I'm a truman to show, for you believe that is false
Layman terms are only displayed off the top. Rapper or emcee?
Typical rapper I am not
Lithium keeps me level, but as I age soon these pills not popped

Overthinker, delusional, no one seems to view what I saw
So if I treat you different, I'm more than likely in mine box
As I get older, type 1 will keep progressing until in pine box
Got alpha mind... Not. It takes timely, to pick lock

Because my key that I came with is bye lost. Man, this life is quite vile spits
Sometimes I'm done with this work and wanna punch out the time clock
write quick with my right fist till I'm lifeless. Is it alright? Should I write this

I'm that spun of a gun. Primed blast son of a gun and it's not even loaded
Never liked math, but wasn't dumb. Just the unsolved problem I must have become

I'm the best at being the worst. I know that I'm a god, but I'm in a hearse
Gotta go rehearse? Is it off the top? Should I off my top
I don't know if it works. What is going on? I be going berserk

And you be saying I'm the one who's mean like a jerk
And I know that it's him who be doing what he can
But I'm not him, I don't even got a plan. I'm just gonna do it and go through it
Pursue it when I know I'm the man who is sifting through the sewage

But then I'm saying that really I'm just full of it
Like a bull pit is because it's bullshit. Whoops! I didn't mean to do that and curse
But this is how it is. It's a bless and a curse
Just to be bipolar? Yes, you heard. And this is what I'm doing
But I lost my controller

I'm that spun of a gun. Primed blast son of a gun and it's not even loaded
Never liked math, but wasn't dumb. Just the unsolved problem I must have become

So I face the ghost of the future
This is how it is and it's gonna blow the Ruger
At the top of my skull I'm knew sir
Then I got controlled by Lucifer
But then I woke up



Credits
Writer(s): Keith Peck
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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