Feeling like Malcolm in the middle

John Doe spit a riddle

Sky falling on me you can call me chicken little

People don't understand I'm sticking to a plan

I'm a prostitute to the system, I work for the man

Because the system pays to fuck me every chance that it can

Don't want to be another slave, a copy, another Stan, I'm not a serious black man, half cast to Azkaban

One look at my complexion, and they call me fucking tan

Starting writing lyrics, I'm feeling like the man

Shitty song on footy loops my brother's Toucan Sam

Comparing you to me I'm just a grain of sand

If you tell me we'll never make it, then I'll prove it that we, Can

P-s-y-c-h-o have too many one night stand friends they come and they go

Fuck with my mental

Momentos of why I started making music with my kinfolk

Skip that weak shit, I'm only spitting innuendos

Who am I, tell me who I need to be

Never fit in any crowd 'cause I'm too low key

I can't open up my heart 'cause I'm too lonely

I struggle to understand how you can love me for, Me

And that's the shit that fucks me up

What the fuck can I do my minds running a muck

It's like I'm stuck, I need to figure out what I'm doing

My passion is my purpose and that's what I'm pursuing

Who am I? Who am I? Who am I?

How will I ever know if I never fucking try?

Reasonable doubt is like the cloud in my eye

I'm questioning these thoughts but never have a reason why

I'm not the type to try and live my life and one day regret it

Feeling sympathetic inferior feelings, feeling magnetic

Attracting pathetic fakes, people acting synthetic

It's not the sort of pain you numb with local antistatic

I, question myself

Question my mental health

Question if these feeling are stuck with anyone's else

It's like there's a, price on my soul and if that shit sells, I'll know devil too well if my perception is, hell

Aggression, depression I've had this shit since adolescents

I had to make mistakes for them to add to lessons

But now I'm stuck in the past and it's affecting the present

I pray my oppression, lesson, I'm under lucifer's possession

Caressing this sick mental

Never been sentimental

Police take down my credentials 'cause I'm way too temperamental

Spit on instrumentals

Write down lyrics until I'm paid for shit I've thought

I guess that's being fundamental

Imploding into my temple

I'm putting my thoughts central

So when I spit a verse nothing ends up confidential

I've got potential, sharpen my mind like a pencil

Shavings go into a verse to try and match the tempo

I try & erase my thoughts but I rub too gentle

People acting like they don't know me, how coincidental

A bunch of fake, fakes, fake smiles from my dental

Trying to give a fuck is me being experimental

Who am I? Who am I? Who am I?

How will I ever know if I never fucking try?

Reasonable doubt is like the cloud in my eye

I'm questioning these thoughts but never have a reason why