Thoughtless pride self conceive thoughts on a process of destiny, dive straight into the arrow and think simply on how stupid the life of mine was, buzzed pepsiholic, call it what you wanna call it, not givin in as much as sin can be comin in but them people keep callin me stuff to make me feel that way, its like heavens turnin me down, and i got nothing much to smile on except the fact that i can spit a good rap verse, and wonder if the big bang theory and religion is real or combine both but seek on fake prophetic visions, given unto nothing loving something for nothing turning backwards into dismal downward spiraling uneven virtues nothing
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