Time for help

I just keep things bottled up,
My mate told me that he wants to puff,
So I showed him how he's gotta suck,
Not yet let it hotten up,
I lost a friend but got a buck,
Now my little brother's watching us,
Cops have already locked him up,
Maybe i could've stopped this but,

All I think about is drugs and sex,
I keep using until there's nothing left,
Now I wonder what's fucking next,
Now my sister started touching meth,
She's kicking with dealers up all night,
Yeah I know the buzz is nice,
I'm not fucking cool for touching ice,
I look at her and see nothing nice,
Drugs took away our mothers life,
But you will realise that your brother's right,

All this just doesn't end,
My depressive thoughts love the pen,
I'm addicted to these drugs again,
And im supposed to be a fucking man,
So why did I just puff a gram?
If so many of use understand,
Then why am I here by myself?
Have use felt what I have felt?
I just want to tie the belt,
They just blame it on the ice I melt,
But I only intake the size I'm dealt,
I don't know I guess maybe it is time for help...