Masochist
V1 (20)
Everything happens for a reason/
And my reason to be’s to see shit happen for a reason – One event to the next/
It’s like I’m stuck at the box office with every second my clock tosses
Into my face, smacked with a case of fate wasted and lost causes/
I’ve been mocked and accosted, to the point that I got nauseous/
Though my flow’s been plugged enough to stop faucets/
I’ve thought often about tossing this awesome gift to the wind/
And start crossing over to sin with this intention to blend that I get from within
I’ve protected my skin with a thin layer of pride and showmanship/
But both my coats are ripped and I can’t seem to decide on clothes that fit,
Supposing this rap shit actually pays off, I’m wondering if it’ll all be worth it/
Cause this is what everyone in my life has ever been hurt with/
This curse, this evil urge I feel for verses…
Is one of my life’s real perversions/
I seal my curtains when I write, I feel disturbance from the light/
I deal with dirt and yet I want to heal the earth and peel the surface to reveal it’s perfect.
And words I wield with purpose, and yet nobody follows the plot/
They rather hear me rock off of the top/
There’s pitfalls in my socks, so I walk with caution/
Somebody halt the auction! Cause my soul’s on sale, and I thought I lost it.
V2 (24)
And who the hell am I supposed to be?/
A holy priest holding a rosary? Some type of bold stoic Moses of poetry?/
Should I be holding heat to pose for the streets
A total phoney? If I said my name was ‘Tony’ would you know it’s me?/
Supposedly, T-O-N-E flow with ease over these bolder beats/
But the flow’s too cheap to pay for groceries/
And in the throws of grief I choke and breathe/
Loaded with my parents hopes and dreams, yet I don’t know if we both believe
I scope the scene, and I’m watching these bills build up
I’m nice with a day-job, these niggas write all day and still suck/
And yet they fill clubs, sell a trillion and feel sluts/
I kill dubs, but I don’t have the mills to pay for real pub/
My chilled love melts on occasion/
Cause brainwashed niggas only feelin’ my track if Clue or Flex will play it/
Who you expect to say this shit if I don’t?/
What? Cause I don’t wanna be extorted by some cat who lets cash determine his playlists/
I’m searching for ways in, but entrances are sparse when you’re hard to market/
Fuck art, cause thugs aren’t the smartest targets/
And I’m not abstract enough, so it seems backpackers are acting up/
And I thought it was half the battle, just to have the love/
And pack a truckload of skills, politics are ill and yo, it’s real/
It seems I’m cruising, and they’re still using these crooked stones for wheels/
And when you know the deal, it doesn’t evoke the most appeal/
Like stolen Kosher Meals, lemme propose a toast to heal.
V3 (32)
I’ve sacrificed so many facets of life, just to achieve this/
From Love & definitive reason, to trust in agreements,
My family suffered in grievance when we discussed I was leaving/
Seeming substituted for tunnel vision and it probably crushed all their feelings/
There’s something appeasing in the corruption of demons/
Feeding me vehemently lustful delusions of bucks from succeeding/
But times up, months it’s exceeded/
Peeling the scabs off of cuts that are bleeding, knowing I ain’t had it as tough as Jesus
This shit doesn’t compete or even touches what he did/
But, will I be signed by 33? Cause my teens were fucking depleted
Blessed with a gift, equipped to assist in the destruction of heathens
But, please, would god really want me snuffing emcees, then?
I must be conceited, right?
Well, I’m balanced out by the lack of self-esteem I’ve felt since I’ve learned how to read & write/
Overcompensation spelled relief when the rhyme schemes are tight/
Then I feel the weight of a cheapened life when 5,000 people die/
(SOB! SOB!) Feel bad for the rap artist/
But pour your soul into something for responses that’s half-hearted/
Terminate relationships on the basis of past hardships/
And then you’ll see why every review’s like another line on my scarred wrist.
This light-hearted voice becomes jailed by the darkness/
It’s impossible to trap my lips, when I have to spit/
I try to swim away, but I keep getting dragged back in this/
Come to find my arms automatically swimming backwards, Cause I’m a masochist.
Chorus:
If I gotta fight for the rest of my life
Then I’m gon’ turn the other cheek (yeah)
Cause I hate the way you hurt me
But I can’t get enough of your love.
