Claxx On the Traxx

Let's take a trip in the mind of a wine king
Look at the crook's book, find what you're finding
Look at a sick fuck hooked on a crime thing
Fucked up with six bucks, where's the silver lining?
Maybe it's the writing and surviving
Maybe it's the haziness and craziness that I bring
That maybe made me savour this alive thing
Fuck man, I can still remember ODing and reviving
Now it seems my music is arriving
After all the juggling, the struggling and striving
I've been very lucky, I've been fortunate
I've been in the streets and seen friends lost in it
Like Joey, Joe's back in detox
With dope packed in his knee socks and old fashioned Reeboks
And every night his momma keeps crying cause her hope keeps dying
Shooting dope with this rope he's tying
His soul keeps trying to escape but he can't
He's just like his daddy and his cousin and his aunt
He's bugging on the drugs and it wasn't in his plans
Plus he's got a court case, H planted in his pants
That's what he says, do you believe this?
Cause every time he get out he's back with these heads
I guess we don't know the reasons
But we're praying to a god that we don't believe in
Yeah, sometimes at night I take the train
Just to hear the clacks rumble on the tracks
Sometimes I write just to shake the pain
But I can't go back, I can't change the past
Sometimes at night I take the train
Just to hear the clacks rumble on the tracks
Sometimes I write just to shake the pain
But I can't go back, I can't change the past
I remember being younger, September from the summer
Right before the trees had the leaves fall from em
Teens full of dreams, we were still all younguns
But it seems that the schemes and the dirt called on us
We all went our separate ways with the reference
The same cause it stays when the days when your death is
Always full of questions, never full of answers
Took chances dealing with the devil and his dancers

Everyone of us will fill our stomachs with the vodka
Some of us are criminals and running from the coppers
Some of us are plumbers but the brunt of all the rotten
Things that we went through are taking their toll
Cause some of us are dead laying with snakes in a hole
It makes you wanna cry when you wasted your whole life
Until you wind up thinking of taking your own, that's why
No, no, gotta go, go go go, yeah yeah
The world turns, the train tracks rumble in the night
Doors open, a drunk man stumbles with his wife
The pride of a foolish man humbled with the knife
In the reflection of the glass you can see it wasn't right
Blurry moving lights, slurring new advice
Lying to your own face, this is truly true to life
And beautifully trife, usually a sight for sore eyes
When you start seeing you could be alright
Your heart is beating right? So start a decent life
The greatest story ever told has got to be a fight
I know that some of me is wrong, part of me is right
I write rhymes till I'm bringing the forgotten to the light
My stop is getting closer, I'm talking to the ghost of
Those who were passed in this rotten evil culture
Writing on the page with the ink from the pen
Underground in the city as I think where I been
You know, you don't see my kind of people. Because my kind of people don't beg dope, they go out and get it. If they miss they go to jail and they kick alone with nothing in some holding tank. Nobody and I mean nobody can talk a junkie out of using. You can talk to em for years but sooner or later they're gonna get ahold of something. Maybe it's not dope, maybe it's booze, maybe it's glue, it's gasoline. Maybe it's a gunshot. But something to relieve the pressures of their everyday life having to tie their shoes.
I can't take this shit anymore, my hands are shaking. I've been out for three days, I don't wanna face nobody ever again. I need help, I need me to get out of here.