Waking up hazy, and my lungs burn
Drank crazy and chained smoked till my lungs hurt
Was so faded, but now I’m down and out
Smile on the surface but never urgent to talk about
All the issues that rip right through my consciousness
I tuck em down to bury em from any type acknowledgement
I find writin the rhymes is the only place where my solace is
But I gotta braveheart like William Wallace did.