How does this shit go? Yeah I used to have Peace, serenity, teaching divinity Break bread, sipping the blood, eating with enemies Blind, Pearl on my mind thinking we finna be This, that, and the third Boy, did I learn, tables turn Billie Holiday burned down to play when my nerves drowned my focus away Swerving in the locomotive Far from my hopes and motives Back to boastin' at shows to get a standin' o From all the fans I know on some of that Sapphire rapid fire soul stuff I used to hit 'em off with But now I'm on some ol' pay the toll for the way I played the role Cautious when I lace a flow 'cause Po's think I'm painting codes Patience grown thin, home sick and haven't been home since Fuck a rapper I'm an actor in a film called Leave Me The Fuck Alone till I Find A Real Job Busting chrome grills off at these soft-hearted break beats Bouncin' with 808's and gray ink Blue heart, red skies True art died in the heart of my mind Kept trying to fulfill this Blank script with realness Even if it kills this Poet inside Am I blue? Am I blue? Ain't these tears in my eyes telling you? Used to speak Sweet with sympathy Tease to mimic me Sunshine every line you ever sent to me Heaven sent, heavenly scent that later crippled me, shit Simple men don't learn, where was your empathy? Couldn't see the fork in the road Kept straight forward Straight towards a humble abode we both hate more Now that I fumbled and folded that open letter, said Dead men walkin' don't dream You taped yours And you told me I could rent it Thought it was invented for my viewing pleasure Human error The apprentice turned teacher, preacher turned God Couldn't reach ya, just a façade, the main feature Modified for blogs, podcast the past Hi-definition, she laughed Pass the message Now I'm guessin' that the jokes on me 'cause I'm the only one threatened The wretched by the windows sketchin' Pencil mural of the method Don't sweat it Techniques turnin', burnin' incense Listening to Billie burn my intent Definitive days that turn my nights to fiction Friction-less, just a pen tryna pimp this stress 'Cause I couldn't keep a lid on my life Naïve is the dry leaves on the ground Lookin' past the tree to the blue sky askin': Why me? Am I blue? Am I blue? Ain't these tears in my eyes telling you?