Issues - Intellectual

[Verse 1: Kythre]

Yo, I try to stay classy, but my life ain’t nothin’ flashy

I’m tryin’ to feel jazzy, but my attempts have been trashy

Recently, my attempts at everything have been kinda lifeless

I feel kinda content and I’m as useful as a flightless

Bird, word I know you may not understand how I feel

You may think I’m lyin’, and that my sadness ain’t real

If you met me in person, you’d think I was a normal guy

Kinda quirky, always cursin’ and with a giant damn supply

Of joy to spread around and jokes to make everyone laugh

But instead, I wanna be in the ground with no folks here on the behalf

Of me or my family, and I wanna be left in peace

Why you think I’m so sickly? My mental health started to decrease

I hate the way that I look; my face, and my body

My lack of muscle and the fact that I was built so shoddy

I hate the fact that I used to purge and smoke away all my problems

I wanted to keep straight, but I just fell to rock bottom

Let me tell you all the shit that I’ve done to myself

I’ve cut myself and tried to hang from a fuckin’ shelf

I’ve taken handfuls of pills and tried to fuckin’ drown

In my goddamn bathtub or shoot myself with a brown

I just want to please people, yet I fail at even that

I do try my hardest, but I doubt y’all are believin’ that

Oh fuck I’m about to cry, hand me some goddamn tissues

And please remember the fact that I have some major issues

Tie a rope around your neck and hang yourself with it

That's what you get for messin' with people's lives, you're finished

You ain't ever think that maybe I ain't the one that did it

Well nobody really thinks, but everyone's a critic

And nobody really pays attention when I start to spit it

And I can admit that me too have cut my wrists too

And cried and cried because no one would hand me a pistol

At least you wouldn't have to clean up the mess: just leave me there

Soul from my body left, left me body less

And I guess it's obvious from the start that I'm really weak in the heart

And if you ain't noticed now then, uh, where you been?

Maybe bein' honest, you're tryna make up for your past sense

That just happened; yeah I'm talkin' past tense

But I keep it real, too bad it doesn't pay my momma's bills

'Cause if it did, I'd probably be a billionaire, tossin' out money instead of havin' pity in the air

Anxiety really fucks me up

Uh, Anxiety really fucks me up, what did I have to say next

Got me feelin' like I'm brain dead or brainless

Sensitive, repetitive, how could I ever let a bitch fuck with me?

Lead to a blade so I could cut quickly

But that was two years ago, I'm glad I pussied out

Didn't leave marks, I don't do dumb shit for clout