1. Another Round of 21

    I was sitting there like, “Ha. Ya think?”
    Faced it, made a wish on eyelashes
    But now never blink
    Been there, done that
    Feelings been run over to the point they feel flat
    Same way to react
    Indifferent
    Now
    Difference how
    No belligerence acting out
    On how three is a crowd
    And one’s not allowed
    To be too calculative on a couple nor proud
    On a rank
    I never received
    So no thanks
    All my cheques in the blanks
    Check, push the joke, pull the prank
    Laugh when these fools make a box and turn cranks
    On Jack, the new ship, their mates might have sank

     

  2. My heart is the bad habit.
    One day I’ll pay, for now just tab it.

     

  3. Sabotage

    What if Icarus needed a cover-up to fall in the sea?
    What if that was his real ambition?
    Not rise or die.
    Rise to die.

     

  4. (Came here to rap. Sorry the singing quality is kinda rough)

    Here’s another from the lover, the fighter
    Oh brother, we might-a
    Just met the match
    Go on girl and dont get hurt
    You know them flirts are the worst

    And tbh this song is wasted on you
    And I am too, non-reluctant and jaded on using you
    Don’t act like you ain’t fighting and doing it too
    Boxing judgment, no match in this ring for two
    But who counts? 
    You happen so got damn swiftly
    Damned if I’m tailored (taylor’d) to let you hit me
    I knew you were trouble, I know when you’re with me
    The force inexplicable and indefinitely sickening
    Hypertension got the air thickening
    Who’s shallow to let the trickin king keep trickling?
    My words slipping out and you keep slipping in
    I can’t keep myself nor my eyes open
    Walk a straight line, past knowin
    This idea of you in my line of sight
    Whether its yours or mine defines this fight
    Any engagement is a new plight
    An old scene, but what’s black and white?
    Blackout but we still calling action
    Ongoing movie of guilty attraction
    Can’t play on technicality nor exaction
    Just dirty words down on filthy collapsin’