Reasons

[Verse 1]

I’m respected in this game, I rocked every spot I been in,
While you can’t show your face like Islamic women rockin’ linen,
But I’m stuck livin’ in mom’s house without a fuckin’ bed,
‘Cause these major labels put out “Wack Emcees” like Pumpkinhead,
So I ain’t touchin’ bread, I been duckin’ feds,
And even hustle for myself; i spent it on some cunt instead,
Got nothin’ left, every breathe is harder than the last,
Success seems out of reach slippin’ further in the past,
That’s why I’m trashed, sparking up this hash in a session,
Packing up more angel dust than the attic in heaven,
That’s why I’m pissed off like having a bladder infection,
With a broken caffita left in my dick while i have an erection,
It got me liable to snap in a matter of seconds,
Pullin’ Mac-11’s like Pun from the back of a Acura legend,
I just think of my future, past and the present,
Try to capture the essence and find some sort of lasting impression,
But all I found is a corrupt cop’s act of aggression,
Grabbin’ me and smashing my head in with the back of his weapon,
That’s why I’m beyond the blessings of a catholic confession,
And why I take cash when the plates past for collection,
I’ve had it with been the illest rapper to step in,
Lacking success in the game where dudes bite like they won’t have a reflection,
I’ve had it with these labels so I’m breaking the mould,
Coz’ they ain’t just taking creative control, they taking my soul.

[Hook]

The reason I’m a liar, the reason I’m a thief,
The reason that I steal, the reason that I cheat,
Is the reason you avoid me when I’m walking down the street,
And it’s probably the same reason I’ll end up deceased.

The reason I’m a liar, the reason I’m a thief,
The reason that i steal, the reason that I cheat,
Is the reason that I wile out and riot in the street,
And it’s the same reason my fuckin’ life will never have peace.

[Verse 2]

Yo, I think about hip-hop and how they just take it away’,
Coz’ i grew up when Wu Tang got rotation on radio play,
But nowadays if I say shit I’m nothin’ but a hater,
Till i pull a rusty razor and cut your face like “fuck your paper”,
Maybe I’m mad because labels use food-stamps to pay me,
But i can’t be the only one that would rather hear Bootcamp than Jay-Z,
So yeah I’m underground and my fans are backpackers,
But at least my fans don’t buy mixtapes full of wack rappers,
I can’t front, I listen when I’m in the club grabbin’ tits,
And the bass is so loud I don’t hear the trash you spittin’,
All that glamour, glitz and packs of crack you flippin,
Won’t be real till you stop braggin’ and say it was a bad decision,
If you’re anything like me you’re poor with a tortured past,
Getting beat by pace coz’ your pants are half off your ass,
Ain’t tossin’ cash in photographs with some camera crew,
You is black and blue in handcuffs on New York Avenue,
That’s the truth, that’s the reason I’m almost suicidal,
Feelin’ outta place like Muslims with a Jewish bible,
Been taking drama from my baby mama, now my mind is gone,
Weight of the world’s on my shoulders and eight planets piled on,
Rifle drawn, pointed at the cops when you callin’ em’,
Six million ways to die, i’ll try all of em’,
Holdin’ a glock and squeezing untill they stop my breathing,
I know I’m crazy, don’t ask me why, i got my reasons.

[Hook]

The reason I’m a liar, the reason I’m a thief,
The reason that I steal, the reason that I cheat,
Is the reason you avoid me when I’m walking down the street,
And it’s probably the same reason I’ll end up deceased.

The reason I’m a liar, the reason I’m a thief,
The reason that i steal, the reason that I cheat,
Is the reason that I wile out and riot in the street,
And it’s the same reason my fuckin’ life will never have peace.