The Streets

CATEGORY

just different

When the streets are made for nothing but thinking
It's the weight of the water that's caused our sinking
It's a loss of feeling that's made me lighter
It's everything around
That makes me neutrally bound

The only writers block is the writer
It's the kind of thing that makes a man with a pencil and paper a fighter
Like the paper's jumping up at you like a, like a alligator

But it's hard to chalk down all the mistakes, cause when you're trying so hard you're just being fake

You just gotta learn to let it, let it all flow
Show your all and let em all know
Just how you're feeling that blow, even if it means one or two bad lines, that's how you feel though
Cause life ain't a poetry book
It's all the points in between the pages that we missed
It's all the things that make us factories of emotions
A crook with feelings creeping through the motions
Turning pages, trying to suck it all up like the books eroding

Don't you talk to me about feeling
Naw you ain't know what you be dealing, everyone's got there own , you can't tell me mines to be concealing
See, I'm a material void of expressionism
Cause I told everyone what I feel, not for the sake of impressionism
They chose to see inside and learn a lesson without all the criticism

Everything I've learned is turning me into a crustaceans fossil
Hard to the shell but brittle to the touch, and I preach my like a god damn apostle
You make me feel from the inside and I'll be your crutch, but you're gonna need more than a god damn rock hammer to open me up

My words I mend to make up for what I conceal
But as I sit here thinking about how I feel
It's gonna take more than this to make me heal
Now let me dilute as I talk to the god inside my head and make a deal, something to end the pain and suffering I have concealed at the expense of everything real