Sound of My Voice

In my brain's cavernous depths,
Next to a little white lie and a failed piss-test,
Is a masochist they call Mr. Misstep,
A slate you couldn't clean with a gallon of Windex,
But in the subtext underneath the subjects,
The sun sets,
Making silhouettes of what comes next,
So tired of the middle, I was pushing and pedaling,
Turning every single verse I wrote into my medicine,
And they say it's better when you let it get embedded in,
So I let it in,
Hoping it'd make me a better man...
But it hasn't,
I guess I'll always be that little piece-of-shit,
DRUG ADDICT,
But as long as I rap savage, peep the tactics,
See if other rappers can hack this,
The haps is, I stay hidden like a trap, is,
Other rappers need to lie down like a mattressssssssssssssss.