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lirik lagu end of warmth – holden stephan roy

maybe it’s a lot
with the uh
heavy reality sh*t
depressing ass motherf*cker
overe here finna get lit
well my kind of lit
like who am i turning up
for anyway
knowledge over
fun and lethargy
grind baby
work gets me off
let’s get it
why why so f*cking serious
because

this is f*cking war
a bullet to end my warmth
i truck on according to lies
luck’s score board
stuck forward sucked tomorrow’s
rut more than f*cked
for wards of sm*t
force upon the stuck
storm the schmucks
before conforming to what
ordinarily reason is boring
beatings teasing to the touch
whoring feasible if the branding
isn’t too much to wonder whether
wondering the depths clutching
imagery of corruption and death
too much acquaintances
will think way too much
or never even give a f*ck
what’s most tough
forges steel from morals
seething gleans into inked forewards
sleeves told stories
of less than normal performance
luck a fairy tale told to the stuck
sorry they told me careful
converts with less worry
baring emotion strength
bravado cowardly entrenched by
remembering through a commando’s
lens it’s either ok boomer or
go boom as they stress the wrench
hey i’m just a millenial
what did you expect
i’m very anxious but not paralyzed
but not collected a hot mess
but allegedly talented or it’s suicide
protect that ego from fretting
delusions of grandeur putting letters
together in a public setting
mastercard collects and burn excess
pretending letterheads and
presentation will present this hater
with collections instead
or will i preach myself red
spirit bled hunter who gets at it again
practicing practice conception and
death because the world’s complex
and feeling is a con
unless controlled for a check
or is dealing with the cons
controlling my checks
no balance yes to debt
hit me with that technical gadget
for my next wet salty display of
exalted profession already sweating
the message massage it to rejection
these motherf*ckers trend hop
like it’s cool to pretend
while others troll
damage over mend f*ck it
we’ll just end up dead
but the present is all a sum
of prospects pros pick from
the ignorant but these days bliss
is worth the shivers n sh*ts
or is a hit worth integrity dips
get the cash in flip
f*ck over intermittent suckers
then grow a conscience
25 year old d*ck to 69 year old
philanthropist is it right
the self*righteous makes
life less fun line’s out of sight
but only if you f*cking blind
i shouldn’t criticize
i used to also be a petty child
emotionally wild
hurting others sleight the hurt inside
other bratty ways of life
chatty cathy’s make light
of significant plights
religiously fight
to condemn ethics from sight
for the sake of plebish delight
i ain’t on that side i call it a blight
i write rhymes
to try and remind that you’ll only rise
when you try excuses tend to be lies
bullsh*t belies bullish as divine
bull’s sh*t is still fecal by design
regal a state of mind
fetal the place to lie
life’s scary so globalized global lies
hopeful ties to a future sight
not so divided the servant
leader is f*cking fearless clears
stubborn f*ckers on some tear jerking
political stints only you’re clearly better
then the veneer of our parents
this new age wisdom mixes
survival instinct with that
f*ck the system
camel’s back is twisted
the straw’s a debate
on a point we’re missing
what’s missing is definitely
in the words in non*fiction
read them lits or get lit up like a victim
people flip scripts
with no method to madness
random the strategy tangent the tactic
elasticity lacking in the undisciplined
wackness like lower the bar
so i can practice some magic
shower the money
i’ll hardly give an extra inch
we learned it as kids
the goats of a universe
built with glass limits
it’s a predicament
when minimum effort is no longer
common sense what’s common since
the logic’s selfish at best
there is something brewing civil disinterest
middle of men becoming the fringe instead
violence below the surface of reasonable dread
paying attention too painful
too rage filled plagiarists coerce the stay still
don’t ever deal we’re worthy of every meal
we deserve to steal
until the bullets take all feelings
this sh*t is real at least
that’s how i f*cking feel

- holden stephan roy

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