Roses
I leave and the world goes Gmail crazy. People paying 80 dollars for shitty ass free e-mail accounts. Dudes wanna give me blow jobs for an invite. It’s sickening. It’s weird. I don’t get it. Yadda-Yadda.
I bet some of you have been asking yourself “What the hell has Doc been up to?” No? Well, I’ll tell you anyway.
I’ve been doing absolutely nothing. No thing. Not a damn thing. I could lie and say that I’ve had mountains of crap going on and an assful of personal upheaval. And I’d be lying. Not to say that I have anything against lying. Lying is good sometime, especially when telling the truth would mean more trouble than lying. Or when you don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings. Or when you wanna get out of doing something and not look evil, pitiful and lazy.
I like to look good in people’s eyes. I like for people to say, “That Ronny, he’s such a swell fella. I wish they made more young men like him.” Yep, I like being liked. But only to a point. I think it coincides with my mood swings. Bi-polarism is a bitch.
Let’s start over.
Fuckin’ mosquitoes, everywhere.
Okay. Forget everything I just wrote.
My girl left me and I thought about suicide. I really felt that death was my only option. I cried so much, my eyes went dry. The world meant nothing to me. And yet, I have returned to you. Because I have nothing but you. You are all I have, the only wall from me ending it all. Don’t leave me like that bitch did. Don’t go away from me like my grandma may soon will. You are it. And I cherish you. My heart beats only for you. I love you.
There. How was that. Better. Good.
It’s all make believe, I pretend that I’m true
When you give me credit, I’m dodging you every chance that I get to
Even if it’s good, I’ll sniff it up in a minute
Beep you back complain that you put too much cut in it
If you fall for that - and bring me a new sack
I’ll be making more crazy faces than Jim Carrey on crack
Cause yo I’m ripped, I owe you loot, plus I annoy you
I deserve to be murdered, but the coke is doing it for you
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