I'm complicated.
What it is one time PAC DIV.
My mind is a blood red brick house on Stone street
with thousands of rooms; blue mirrors,
the auroma of marajuana and music.
Cacoethes Scribendi. Get it tattooed on my wrist.
New Orleans native. My accent proves it all.
I am finally beggining to accept the fact that I am meant to be alone.
I am forever in the cycle of change.
I tend to treat serious situations like how I treat strangers.
I'm a starving writer and a dying phtographer.
No one will ever comprehend or understand.
When I die I want Bob Marley playing at my gravesite.
I am the rose that grew from concrete.
5.01.2010
Somebody told me this song went hard.
Hard?
Man, honestly, this is kind of a poor excuse for hip hop and music in general.
I mean c'mon, Wayne was SICK. After C3, now it's like he releases any garbage
joint and everyone will be riding his dick. I just wish his music still had a purpose these days
instead to just make money. Sigh.
The only reason I waste time to listen to this is because
