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jessewestend

Nashville

Member Since 2002

Followers 93 Following 66

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Saturday Jul 30, 2005

Jul 30, 2005
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I've been practicing this song for an hour and a half straight not because it needs work but because i just love doing it, it flows so well, i'm all bouncin around and shit, ah hell...

Lisnin to kanye west doin what I do best sittin outsida work smoking my Camel cigarettes Its my last night but I aint left yet and I just might be willin to bet that 1st shiftll be late like they are every day. They dont understand how I work to get paid. So here I sit watching my life pass away working till the sun rises every day and Its Just another night underneath the streetlights turn the ipod up high and so I can get this beat right stuck in Tennessee wishing I was anyone but me and anywhere but mother fucking Castle street. Cold and dark Lonely and depressing the suburban nightmare with all the dressings. So I take the cadillac down to Compton street, turn the beat up loud and run through my dreams. First I need a job that will pay me large, and then I need to hurry up and pay for this car, I need the tools to make the art that I fake to get the attention you all know I crave. I know its a joke but I keep sayin Ill save but I keep putting savin off for one more day Then I need a ticket so I can get quickly to San Francisco and away from Tennessee. I know Ill never be kanye or Jay-Z, I wont be snoop dog, or any other MC. I wont be Prince, Joe Strummer or Mike Ness or any other person people label a genius. Im sick of being sick of all this tired stress, man I guess Im just a third shift mess

I got five months and then Im gone
Just five months and five million songs
A billion random words said with my southern slur
gonna get gone so fast that my face will blur
my face will blur
my face will blur

Man I dont see why I cant just drive, get in the Lac and go all night. Sell my shit and drive away from the light and make my bed when I spot a sunrise. Fuck work fuck school fuck them fuck you. Im sick of all this talking and Im sick of bitchin too. So Ill Make a few stops to connect the dots draw a jagged line from broad to broad, all these birds with their comfy nests, sharing their beds and baring their chest, I dont mean to be crass but its what I do best. And if it pays the bills its even better yet. And Im starting to look a lot like frank Sinatra with a love life that played out like an opera, the teleprompters broke and cant remember what I wrote. Lost in the translation like a Polish Polak joke. And If I have to be white Im gonna be so pale that I illuminate the night and clear the air Im gonna be a light so white you cant help but stare, sayin god damn look at that bright kid there, with Buddhist tats and slicked back hair, thats a bad motherfucker I do declare. But no one is gonna notice until I serve notice that I aint the same kid yall used to know and I aint gonna quit writin rhyming and flowin Im just gonna stay in like I been snowed cuz even if no one ever hears my biggest critic lives in between these ears and hes a fucking pricl . And if someday I actually approve of the crap that I try to do, it will blow away any praise by assholes like you always praying for some one new to bow down to. Man Im gone, man Im gone, you can keep tha song

I got five months and then Im gone
Just five months and five million songs
A billion random words said with my southern slur
Im gonna get gone so fast that my face will blur
My face will blur
my face will blur

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