| Look at my past and still a part of it’s haunting me
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| Probably because I’ll never be the man that I want to be
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| Honestly it’s been disheartening, it’s hard for me constantly
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| When I’m working on this album, I cannot let it bother me, I
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| Never wrote this for no metaphors or bars
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| That ain’t my message here at heart, I’m trying to tell you what’s been wrong
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| I’m so frustrated, I could put my head right through the wall
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| I take a piss and then this fan wants a selfie at the stall
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| He said he listens to my music and it helped him through withdrawals
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| First I judged him then I realized that’s selfish and it’s wrong
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| He told me he’s been smoking heroin, it’s scary to think
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| That one day you’re doing fine, and then you’re there on the brink
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| He doesn’t have a lot of friends and his parent’s just drink
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| They try to cope with him, no one notices there is a link
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| They’re both addicted to their vices even thought they’re not the same
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| It doesn’t change the fact that using both to cope with all the pain
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| His mamma’s prayin' for him every night, hopin' that he’ll change
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| And she’ll use it as an excuse to drink a forty every day
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| Like think about that for a second, how fucked up is it
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| That she’s mad that he’s fucked up but she get’s fucked up with him
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| He’s been sober for a like a week, said he’s focusing on his dreams
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| But it’s been hard for him, withdrawals keep poking at him
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| He just needs support and then he’ll see that there’s still hope for him,
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| just breathe
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| He said «Merk, I can’t believe that you just wrote this shit for me»
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| It’s real life
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| We’re all going through a couple of things
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| I’ve been drinking 'til I’m numb to be at one with the pain
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| Disappointed with myself, I must be insane
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| But the fucked up thing is that we all are the same
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| We’re all going through a couple of things
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| I’ve been drinking 'til I’m numb to be at one with the pain
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| Disappointed with myself, I must be insane
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| But the fucked up thing is that we all are the same
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| Now he’s anxious and he’s dope-sick, praying that he don’t slip
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| Hard to face all these emotions when he blatantly can’t focus
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| But he’s on his second week, starting to get some better sleep
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| The other day he even smiled, the results are bitter sweet
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| Every time you see him notice that he’s sober you can see
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| That he’s happy, but he’s nervous 'bout this person he could be
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| And his mamma’s there with him, she’s being there for her kid
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| But every time she leaves the room, she sneak away for a swig
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| 'Cause she ain’t able to quit, and her DNA say’s to drink
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| But that’s not fair to him, he can’t see her wasted like this
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| Now he’s on his first month, man that’s thirty whole days
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| That he stayed away from heroin, I’m sure he feels great
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| He keeps asking 'bout his mom, their like «I'm sure she’s okay»
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| But they don’t know that she’s at home, drinking bourbon all day
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| He needs to turn a new page, he can’t believe that she just left him
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| On his way out, he saw them bring his mom in on a stretcher
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| What the fuck
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| We’re all going through a couple of things
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| I’ve been drinking 'til I’m numb to be at one with the pain
|
| Disappointed with myself, I must be insane
|
| But the fucked up thing is that we all are the same
|
| We’re all going through a couple of things
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| I’ve been drinking 'til I’m numb to be at one with the pain
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| Disappointed with myself, I must be insane
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| But the fucked up thing is that we all are the same |