I love who I am... But hate who i try to be

I wish that in end I'll be able to see

Be able to believe, that me is enough

And stop wondering "am i gonna it fuck up?"
When a gangster goes into jail, they take away your belt. Now say he had some meat on him, but comes out all ripped and diesel and shit because all there is to do is workout when you're locked up. When he gets his pants back they're not going to fit anymore, so they sag. Unless you just got out of jail, or are trying to smuggle a 12gauge...pull your fuckin pants up. A real gangster keeps his pants up (unless he's packin the 12) so he can be mobile. If you want to be a gangster I'm not stopping you, but keep your clothes combat ready. If you're gonna sell drugs I'd rather see you live then die. I don't really care about a crack head, but the world needs good businessman. But for the rest of you...you know that's not you, you know that you do that because you're to embarrassed to not do it. You say you're a thug...but I see you doing as your told? That's a shame.
My Very Own Ink Blots...what do you see?
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Can anyone clue me into the slang that comes out of middle-class America? I mean... feel free to email me with your arguments, I'm not saying that my way is the right way...it's just my way. But I'm confused, if you were born well fed, educated and taken care of...why are you acting, grimy, un-edumacatafied and for shlizzaly bling dizzaly fakizzle? I'm not judging you, if that's HONESTLY you, then it makes perfect sense. But why is it... depending on who you hang out with your attitude and behaviors change so drastically? Just a thought...
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The majority of my friends are in jail...which may be why I have such a negative attitude towards sellings drugs, pushing whores and running guns. I mean, I understand why they did it, because you couldn't even get a job flippin burgers at times. But...I don't know, I sold ceramic statues, put together shows (not well, but I did) worked at flea markets and shovled driveways, depending on where I was living, I always found a legal way to make money. I don't know, I'll be corny, you can be anything you want to be. And YOUR the bitch if you think different. Your the pussy for giving up before you even started, because giving up is what people do when they're too afraid to fail. I'll fail, shit I do THAT very VERY well. I'll KEEP failing, cause I'm doing what I want to do. But with each failure I learn something I didn't know about myself about everything around me. I use that to make the next failure easier to recover from. If I'm wrong then do the opposite of what I say and see if you become a success. Write me back if you do and I'll formally apologize (course in the end you'll be a success...which is exactly what I wanted in the first place so either way I win fucker...but anyway.) and admit that I was wrong.
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A whore is someone who fucks for money. A slut is someone who uses sex to "make" people fall in love with them. A real woman is a selective, secure individual who has sex when she's ready, be it now or later, and who she has sex with is based on her feelings and what she wants for her life. A real woman does not act on the approval of others but on self appreciation and self respect. For those who don't know...real women may not have sex with as many people as sluts and whores, but the sex they do have is FREAKY AS HELL and the best of the best. A real woman is the best kind of woman for a man, but a real woman only wants a real man. A real woman is not intimidated by a real man, she recognizes his playful teasing as a cue to push things forward, she fills in the blanks when there are uncomfortable pauses and is forgiving to a man who is not perfect. She acknowledges the fact that in all reality she DOENS'T want mister perfect, she wants flaws, she doesn't want to know what's coming...and in all honesty, she doesn't want to be in total control (just a little subtle control... ladies can you tell me I'm wrong? Shit, if I'm wrong I owe you a dollar burger. Email me, if you have a good argument you win the bet. As your prize I'll take you to the fanciest McDonalds we can find...I'll open the door for you, guide you as my finger tips stroke across the small of your back, calmly I'll speak into your ear, closely I'll ask you what it is you want...and then when you've gathered the strength to speak your desires....I'll BOOTY BUMP ya and tell ya "NO! You're gettin a dollar burger woman! And if ya keep touchin my ass like that I'm gonna have to ask you to slide a few dollars in my wasteband so I can pay for these burgers!")

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A wimp is a guy who will do anything to get laid. A scum bag is a guy who will force women into situations where they feel they have to have sex with him in order to stay safe. A player is a guy who has to lie and decieve in order to laid. And a real man is a secure, brave, honest individual who says exactly what is on his mind. Who fears no woman no matter how attractive, who knows what he's worth and knows exactly what he deserves. A real man knows the true meaning of attraction and isn't afraid to turn a woman on that he's just met. A real man can play with his words as if conducting a song. A real man can talk about making pizza and have a woman wet on the inside...not because he's tricking her...but because he knows exactly what she wants...detail, attention, playful games, teasing and tantalizing. Real men can get a woman to explore every nook and cranny of their sexual alter ego without making them feel embarrassed or ashamed. A real man never abuses a woman but never lets her take over his life. Never verbally abuses her but playfully insults her insecurities to make those insecurities seem silly to help her let go of them. A real man is in charge of his life. He doesn't need money or nice clothes in order to eat well made food and look nice. He takes care of his life and worries about what's best for him.
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Somtimes I wonder if my eyes are really open... do I influence what I see to make it pleasing to me? Do I change what is threatening to something I don't need? Do I chase after cars and clothes and a really nice home because it takes my mind off of what I don't really know. Who am I... I know I feel it somewhere in there, it's almost like I knew but forgot and I don't care. But lately it's been eating at me, is happiness this? Constantly changing who I am just trying to fit in? Holding back from doing what I really want to do? I know what I need to be but I seem to be getting confused. But now I start to see that people LIKE what is me. It's scary to think that it could be done so simply. No tricks or money and no lies to love me, I pull back sometimes but I know that it's coming to me slowly. It's like I'm finally growing I feel the butterflies form, the mind starts to storm the thunder rolls on. The lightening crashes down, excitement THIS is now. I'm NOT waiting for saviors any more to bring me down. Mommy's not coming back, jesus is staying dead, the secret to my success is hidden inside my head.

who knew-
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Hell is...

Hell is making eye contact with someone on the street, feeling an instant connection...and walking by without a word. Hell is saying what you think everyone wants you to say, instead of what you want to say. Hell is making it through years and years of abuse...and starting to wonder if what they told you is true. Hell is being told every day of your god damn life that you should quit before you even start. Hell is hiding when you want to be seen, hell is feeling nervous around people you have no reason to feel nervous around. Hell is having a million friends when you're pretending to be something you're not, and having no friends when you're trying to be the person you are. Hell is not knowing what you're doing wrong.

Hell is... holding back.
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Remember, if you like what you're seeing (and hearing), then get your copy of my debut album 'Without A Label' and save up to 50% on all kill the crap and midnight sun merchandise. Want to keep in touch on our way to the top? Send me your email address and join the mailing list. There I give updates on the music, advancements in our goals, tips on ghetto recording, and a world of other concepts to help kill not just crappy music, but crap in general.

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