Struggles Rap

It is to the beat of "Skinny Kid" by Young Scolla

Slowly growing weak and more chaotic is my mind.
I say and do things that I think will help keep me alive.
But this time, it feels like it is growing ever shorter.
The struggles are no muggles and this light beer is definitely a porter.
The fuck does that even mean?
Simple it's getting tougher.
These methods I use to convince myself are surely gonna suffer.
I'm thankful for my Mother, helping to keep me here alive.
If something happens to her I don't know if I'll survive.
I've lived in a house where I had it pretty easy.
But my mind is never empty, cause it's always fucking leasing.
Thoughts of self hate constantly coming and going out.
Voices of thousands degrade me as they try to stab and shout.
 

I'd really love to simply go and float far away. But these roots I have keep me like a tree where I just sway. Cause never would I want to perch on that big ol' moon. Looking at those tears knowing they will never end soon.