Stool’s leanin’, jukebox screamin’, neon bleedin’ on my arm,
Cheap whiskey kissin’ my lips like it’s meanin’ me no harm,
Pen bleedin’ on receipts, ink deep like street scars,
I’m scribblin’ heat — no beat — just teeth and cheap cigars.
Bartender’s laughin’, I’m crashin’ through bad habits,
Glass static, ash in my jacket, black magic,
Scratch paper napkin, thoughts slashin’ through mad traffic,
Brain doin’ backflips, truth brutal but pragmatic.
Nobody here’s holy, just broke saints and dope fiends,
Blue smoke scenes, coke dreams, hope means no means —
I toast fiends with broke schemes, no hope beams, no pope dreams,
Whole teams got codeine, nose bleeds, and dope gleam,
No peace in low beams, cold streets with no heat,
Slow bleed in old jeans, gold teeth and ghost screams —
See, I’m scribblin’ riddles in middle of little-bit bitter and better than ever but never been sober,
The liquor deliver the shiver that trigger the sinner to spin in a circle and settle it over,
I’m penning a menace, a sentence of venom, a letter to heaven to send in a folder,
A veteran severin’ every endeavor to measure the pressure — it’s only gettin’ colder.
Write rage on the page, every line’s grenades,
Renegade brainwaves lit in sideways arcades.
I ain’t savin’ face — I’m savin’ phrases in the bar grime,
Sharp lines carved in dark times, hard rhymes,
Carbine heart, spark mines, scars sign,
I’m a landmine with a sharpie in the last shrine.