86'd

Intro:

Drinking's bad?

Yeah, drinking's bad…

But it’s only bad when you have one goal 

and that goal is to get fucked up,

So fill it to the brim 

to the brim of my cup.

Yeah, so what…?

This is for the fellas 

Who way too overzealous for the feelings they dwell in, 

and it ain’t peace

or no guarantee 

that this is something that’ll bring me clarity, 

and that’s what honestly scares me. 

It’s that even when I’m aware of my behavior…

this is the type of character that will still switch players, 

and that there’s a nightmare,

it ain’t fighting fair cause it incites danger. 

And he who believes there’s nothing to compare it with 

is actually an understatement to being imperative, 

but….

do you care? 

Words of incitement 

Hmm? 

There must be some deeper purpose of these habits that keep resurfacing

cause they keep conflicting 

like something of acquisition in which you inherits (hereditary) 

and the way that you raise that

(becomes a necessary)

and that’s supposed to be how nature is? 

Well let me paint you a picture 

of two fabled kids, 

who came entangled with, 

with their fates in the mix. 

Yeah, I’m 86’d. 

All love <3 

86'd 

You know…

its my fault I take it by the doses.

I’m influenced by it’s emotion and addicted to its closure,

Yet sickened by the irony where we fall as a culture 

Yeah… My reality may be altered,

but it takes the pain of being a father 

Flowing in my veins,

this poison.

A boy/a puppet toyed with

I’ve become enclosed in 

and even my family knows it. 

Chained with an addiction 

and once convicted, 

so no matter the dirt I’m digging

or how I mix it in the kitchen, 

a bottle is all it takes to break me. 

Once I swallow, 

there’s more that I’m craving. 

Really only one word 

and I call it slavery  

Father talks with his son:

“Shit! This tastes amazing 

Yet, same time I hate it,

and that’s the irony I’m facing!”

“Oh, no, 

I’m not sober. 

God damn! 

I know it only gets worse as I’m alone and get older”

“I can’t explain this,

the way we trade our ache 

and continue to aid our pain with what I’m taken”

“I just know 

all this praying makes it dangerous

cause once I do feel saved…

The next, I’m hated

so instead you’ll find me killing my patience with a bottle or a case of… 

Shit! 

I already forgot the name of what I’m drinking. 

Yo! Whats the difference?!

All this praying is decaying 

so I’ll just save it!

Funny to say when I’m sitting on minimum wage”

“Ahh,..

either way, 

I can’t wait to get a taste of that liquor 

and all that’s in this pitcher, 

so I’m looking for something to hinder this pain and/or give way”

“Hair spray 

Listerine and/or ocean

or whatever can go in.

If not 

then I pick up what I can toke up. 

Fingers crossed as I’m hoping

I don’t grow in disappropriately molded to the exact same Sonna to being a father.

   

Yeah, I feel super close,

but am I really thou?

It’s only phoney

and that’s busy tone I’ll leave em’ on 

as they keep calling, 

That’s just the way I was brought up 

and passed down like I been a product 

as I mirrored my father, a monster. 

That’s the thoughts that continue to come 

and I follow 

Slowly… 

becoming the problem 

I love you, son.

God knows I do.”

Alone with himself in the room:

"Me…? I’m nothing! 

In front with a glass and all that just numbing.

It’s a Matrix, I’ve been sucked in. 

Your purpose now further questioned,

this heaven or hell? What if?… 

Will I just end up in jail? This what if?…

Should I just give up and fail? These what ifs?”

and sadly a conclusion I clench a cinch with a tight fist. 

Man… I don’t even like this,

to have a circle with no friends.

My thoughts at the lowest bin 

They come and go 

and this might be

because my love is broke 

so moments of trust, I can’t even trust myself. 

It’s like when curtains open,the light shines

and then its closing. 

so… 

whats that do for my thoughts 

when you respond, 

alluding it’s wrong? 

Just cause 

we ain’t got the exact same problems

and that’s the type of shit that constantly weighs on me

cause when I try to relate to get it off my plate, 

you continue to judge by my mistakes and mental mind state. 

Now I’m only close with this rope 

here as the light dims,

my life ends.

It’s a pain I can I hold no longer.

This job of a dad is just not possible   

and maybe my family will hate what I became 

so I ain’t gonna bother.

And to think…

All the regrets I could of conquered and made me stronger

would of definitely made me a better father…

Yeah?..

Well this is whats the cause of….”

*Points at a glass of alcohol then takes his own life*  

Son walks in:

“Dad!!!”

Needing to breathe 

Huffing and heaving.

The secretion of alcohol definitely makes it uneasy.

I see you see your reflection,

Eyes then switch in both directions 

then see me.

I see regrets…

Now I’m grieving.

Dad, why’d you go leave me?  

5 years later: 

Now these are the thoughts that just keep repeating. 

You could’ve called and said you just needed me 

Like what the fu** was that proving?!

And why’d you have to go and do it!?

DAMN! 

I feel so fu**ing stupid,

constantly being the mood I’m in, 

and to a point I’m unable to recoup my shit. 

Years later and here I sip again 

to introduce a friend,

a hoodlum that’s boo’d within.

Ah, yeah.

Dr. Hyde’s my connection 

Standing defiant in my reflection.

Yet, sitting as my own client to accept him,

or so I’ve noticed

and here I sit still defending myself

even thou

I know it’s whats winging my health. 

Oh well…

I pay my tab and grab my bottle of Jack.

Now he’s a father: 

Yeah…

I’m an abusive dad. 

Only cause I’m losing what I had 

Argue; only cause I put up a roof for you cats

Then you disrespect that! 

I drink cause I feel I finished last. 

Then when I tell you, you laugh 

Hah!

Ahh, I do shiver 

just to think

that a little bit of that sh** does make me weak and I wish it didn’t. 

Damn…

I hope it don’t trigger,

me breaking my limits.

Go figure.

Go big or go home ,

so I deliver this liquor to my liver.

Drink until I’m sick of 

and/or can’t live with.

Listen,

I can’t help this.

Me giving in and belittling my vision, 

and with what?

ALCOHOLISM. 

To contain it   

is a deep ache in

Especially when you have a wallet with no bacon. 

Cringe as I’m caving in 

cause I’m craving the flavors you making.

Acting delirious as the fever gets. 

A beer or less ain’t something I’m agreeing with. 

My freedoms spent. 

Interpret free 

cause I ain’t as free as I meant.

That’s the key as I’m scribbling this. 

Feeble as I’m bringing checks to the seat, 

I’m drinking, “Yes!” 

I’m fleek on being the best . 

Nope, 

only defeated within 

once I take a sip of this, 

I’m 86’d. 

Outro: 

I whole heartedly believe in toasting to old accomplishments, 

but as D Smoke said

as you’re moving forward,

it’s all about focusing on the positives

and disregard to be a part of all that obnoxious shit,

and your response….

should be to relieve the nonsense to keep a clearer conscious 

(Please… don’t feed the darkness) 

Carpe Omnia 

Seize the moment and keep focus 

Love <3