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Six in the A.M. - Say me a prayer.
Please Mary, lift me. - High into the air.
Seven rolls around, - And I ain't thinking clear.
Staring at the mirror, -Trying to brush hair.
The animals' lair.
Sit until I'm fine, - and bounce out of there.
Eight o'clock, Walk it out.
The mileage on the Timbs,
Show you what the walk's about.
Cut something here, - Cook something there.
What the ******** am I doing?
This ain't my career.
Clock out to clock in over there.
Eight more to go. Getting my dough.
If I know you, no purchase.
Standing next to me,
will never scratch the surface.
See: I thought this out. - Planned this out. - Mapped this out.
So never will I beg, - As I grind this out.
If I lose both my legs, - I'll still climb out.
I ain't praying for a penny, but I still want peace.
Only something heavenly, can stop my feast.
My beasts' caged, where he still eats.
I'm just doing my time, till we both meet.
Go to war compete for the seat.
If I lose then I lose. I did it to me.
I did it for me. All for me.
They try to find a face, to match up with the blame.
I deserve what I earn, a thousand years of pain.
I can feel this flame, creeping up slow, as I'm doing my thing.
- by INFJ Demeanor |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 10/19/2010 |
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- Title: Story of the Grind
- Artist: INFJ Demeanor
- Description: Some lyrics my old roomie left about seven years ago.
- Date: 10/19/2010
- Tags: story grind lyrics
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Comments (1 Comments)
- xXbassbeastXx - 11/01/2010
- I honestly see this being like a rap. Put a little beat to it and boom smile I'd like that. Keep it up smile
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