| To whom it may concern, I apologize for everything I’ve done
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| And all the trouble that I caused, all my humanistic flaws
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| And the problems I’ve probably put all my people through
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| Inner peace was unattainable, the pain was unexplainable
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| Too deep for you, I’m sitting here wearing a suit never been worn
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| Blaming myself for world problems, wishing I’d never been born
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| In a state of deep depression, for my soul ain’t no lifting
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| Flashing back about life about moves I would have made different
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| I heard it said that taking your own life is selfish
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| And never dealt with what I dealt with, struggle to felt this helpless
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| It’s my life, so I choose whether to cancel or save
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| But on the other hand what right do I have to take something that God gave
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| I’m pretty sure there’s some people in the grave that died young
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| That would love to still be in the game with breath inside lung
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| But I’m sorry to disappoint them huh but in all modesty
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| I’m about to terminate my policy and end this odyssey
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| How shall I kill me, let me count the ways
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| I’ve been devising and contemplating murder methods for days
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| Should I take a bottle of pills, drift off and never wake up
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| Thrust myself from a bridge and break up my bodily make up
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| Should I prop my back against the wall and pop my gat
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| To forcefully extract exploding brain material or visit Doctor Jack
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| To get a lethal dose of arsenic, injected in my heart, causing it
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| To pause when high poison gets off in it
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| But then again another killing plan that I’m feeling, man
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| Is to rope my neck then stand on a chair then dangle from the ceiling fan
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| Or take some gas since expiration is fast, heads thrown
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| But now I’m about to make my own future the past tense
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| So I’ma write this note and leave this Earth
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| But by the time y’all read this I can see that tryna save me' will be needless
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| 'Cause yesterday I felt terrific, but the world is wealth addicted
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| Injected depressive thoughts, now my wounds are self-inflicted
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| In my room, my mind made up, no chance for survival
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| Past suicidal, on my bed is a Quran and a Bible
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| But it’s too dark to read 'cause all I’ve got is a candle lit
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| I can’t handle it, phone been ringing all night but I ain’t answered it
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| Huh, I got my Sam Cooke CD on
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| About to satisfy all the snakes and hypocrits who wanna see me gone
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| That’s when I turn the TV on
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| And I noticed the needy woman living on the streets with 2 children,
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| without a home
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| Watching the news, I see a lady breaking down
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| For a chalk line on the ground where her sons body was found
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| Eliminated by a bullet from a cops gun
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| I’m witnessing wars where bombs killed inoccent people when they drop one
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| And folks appreciate life for what it is
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| And little kids laughing just made me realsie I wanna live
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| Now I’m grateful for my life and every breath I ever took
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| Now I can fold this letter up and place it in my Black Book |