amillahhighlife

I'm hella mental, with this gun at my temple, lookin at a life layed before me, supposedly plain and simple, the rain here drizzles, blurry spots in my vision, thought I was smart boy, what happend to wisdom?, she played me, Laced me with magic almost wiccan, I couldnt see through the smokescreen, got no bags but trippin, Damn this gun, never though I'd use it, I been running so long, It might be good to cease movement, lay a while, a century or more, riddle me this, why is the good ones, always the target of whores?, I dunno, I keep trekkin, whiskey in my gut with my hand o my weapon, other hand on temple, can this gun be my drill?, Like that scene in PI, when dude attempts to end his peril? thought it was rain in my eyes, It's just the saline from my lacrymals, in a state of overproduction, because said succubus is factual, This gradual decline might be the opus, To allow a loveblinded man to regain focus, I wish I was hardend, payed no mind to love, and could only love a chick if she was in my home after the club, and out the door before four, Miss when i was that way before, I see shit that shouldnt, bodyparts that ain't mine. I wanna not be befuddled by shit seen in my mind, So what now mister? Add lead or more whiskey, suck it up like man, or cry sissy, ...........

P.S. This is not be taken as actual events or an entire truth. They are only the thoughts of a creative individual who is going through and insane amount of introspective activities and re evaluating a torrid love affair gone sour.

Millah