Dead Poet

i''ma dead poet, and i know if no one reallys knows it
my head is full of crimes, dead signs, of things to explosive
but i got a downer to keep this shit from getting worse
even tho i took this, it wont end this mental curse.
people say when your a child you get so much love
shit when i was all i got was dust n' mud and a rugged hugg
but that's okay cus i'm fully grown up
ready to change all this crazy shit that has been so corrupt
i should go ahead and clean my empty hut
but for now i just don't give a fuck.
solutions, i got my head movin
i'm ready to start somethin
changing, my ways of being around, im sick of feeling upside down
i must fullfill my "wows"
so i get myself out.
no need to be a devil when your on the wrong level
i got my metal shevle, i'm ready to make heaven special.
i use my illusion, cus i need to use it
imagine that i'am changing and reusing.
jail, the only place that's hell, i've never been there
but i got the spell of fear, oh dear, "choses" to me are like dares
cus once you pick you gatta take a stare, and make sure it was fair.
save, please this drown of hate
oh i must demolish cus i think my life is insake, oh.