Volume 1.

by Stewart Biddulph
(Salt lake, Utah, US)

I don't know where I'm at right now
I gotta pen to the paper with my hand tied down
Look into a future of living off this
So I took a long (!piss!) on the expectations
Some got mad of the consideration...
And I literally write all the time
Cause I wanted to prove that I could rhyme to a beat without making any sense
I wanna prove to you wrong
I wanna prove that I can make it out of Utah
That I can make something from a phone and a microphone stand I got witness you saw.
But nahhh, domt you hate when the frauds claim they're gods!
I'd be the only one in class with the, headphones on teacher saw in coming for a hallway down it was a phenomenon
And the same instrumental beat that I'd freestyle to goes on and on

Write about the days
Where the mood swings swung
That took a long time for me to write down
Write about the days,
When the money was too young
Hold the paper like a tissue box when I'm chasing a crown
about the day when I decided to speak out the tongue
One day you'll never be able to say that I over swung
show me a better path and I'll go the vertical way
Maybe a future of a living of this but I need binoculars cause it's too faraway
Straight up all I do is write
And when you tell me to leave I say I can't move my hands tied down over night.
Brother walks in like turn off the light
I'm sorry dude but I need these bars to back me up in a fight.

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