I survived DOOM! Just by staying in my room! I am to assume that I'm not cool! At least in the eyes of people who have been eyeing my evil and trying to be my little "Beagle"! I had a Beagle named Biscuit. But I had to give it away because she used to rip shit. Turns out, Biscuit was an alien. And right next to me. What do I say to them? The people who make Biscuit's enemies and are really not keeping their distance from my inner me. Which is scary to me! Because (like video games) I'm not prepared to see ANYTHING when I put my cash up and get it. That sucks (for a minute), but then you live with it. It's just fate. What the fuck to say? A whole generation is stuck in their ways...

What about a generation that was raised and full of hate?

What about a generation only worried about a date?

What about a generation with a lock inside their fate?

I LET THEM DOWN!

I LET THEM DOWN!

OH NO!!!

So, get this. It's a control issue. No one wants witnesses when they go and do what they KNOW they should do. Which is hold it down. BUT WHAT IS THE "IT" THAT THEY'RE HOLDING DOWN?! No one knows, and no one knows how. So I'm the only one, roaming alone in my old town. I treat New York like it's a town in Ohio. And treat Ohio like it's a crown for New York. The biggest Latin King with the sound of a sport. A whole stadium. Back to the aliens, who were once friends with Biscuit and the fact I would walk Biscuit to stay away from them. Which is a spell. Witches?! A spell! The fact I was trying to keep my distance from Hell, by raising the flame. Hi! I'm saying my name. I'm violating the game. Now try waiting, okay?

What about a generation that was raised and full of hate?

What about a generation only worried about a date?

What about a generation with a lock inside their fate?

I LET THEM DOWN!

I LET THEM DOWN!

OH NO!!!

It's gotten to the point where I have to pick Rock or Hip-Hop. And NOW, I've got to anoint a genre with my voice. I can choose, but it's my choice! Like one of my boys. I made a decision to commit a sin. Now a grave is what I'm living in. I wish I could resurrect, have sex with the baddest bitch in the world, and never have to guess. But, in this time of rebellion, I tell them (the children) try to go to Hell. Then, realize that you having to sin is a MEANT ACCIDENT THAT I WAS GIVING. And I died for your sins. I'm the modern-day Christ, and I don't mind dying again. Live right, before you have to live right *within* and then find out why I don't write. Again

What about a generation that was raised and full of hate?

What about a generation only worried about a date?

What about a generation with a lock inside their fate?

I LET THEM DOWN!

I LET THEM DOWN!

OH NO!!!