L.T.B. - RoMANIC lyrics

It's like it's my own funeral, all black, suited up Walk to the wake, look down, “what have you become?” Admit to myself that I never loved you enough “He's already gone, why did you leave him in a pool of blood?” If you have answers, opinions are a dime a dozen Whether you're a priest, politician, teacher, wife, or husband Transgendered, h*mophobic, know-it-all, liar, puppet Preheat to 500 degrees and climb inside an oven In other words, your opinion's worth about as much . . . as your opinions when your mouth is shut Life is beautiful; it's still filled with downs and ups No wonder beliefs are shouting “can't believe you doubted us” Now isn't this ironic, a rapper with opinions Saying that your views will never really make a difference They're independently depending on your sick existence Which means, the wrong ones have you a**uming the position I'm older, angrier, guess I have a gift And you could disagree, I'm pretty sure that I would insist This is a very lovely world to keep your mind when it's sick What a great day to take a selfie while you drive off a cliff Which should be the only time you do that, make sure you update your status And your kids are on their iPads while you weave in heavy traffic Make sure your snap shat is Functional so when you crash and decapitate your family the last thing you can do is Instagram it This is what happens, I can't explain it I'm forever persistent To everyone texting right now this letter is written Or staring off in your phone, and would never listen In 100 years it will be like you never existed I want to go somewhere I can be mad all the time Where nobody has to wonder what's on my mind Floating on this Heroine Cloud of mine I can't stand it or understand it why you would listen To the frantic rantings of a manic romantic's monologue I'm just looking for a fire starter; every song's my final offer Until forever's the duration that I am signing off for I don't feel right when I am not writing What is the relationship between our choices and God's timing I'll show you what happens when push comes to shove Backed up in a corner, sort of, when you got put in the trunk Cause you're an internet bully and I wouldn't allow Happy Chanukah here's a hacksaw; put your foot in your mouth Don't make put a lifeless body on a see saw And play in broad day, I'll be caught, I know you've seen Saw What, you want a hatchet, so you can hack it clean off? How's it feel, f*ggot, k** yourself, f**ing retard You sit behind a screen daily masked in anonymity Critiquing everything with a century of indemnity Pull you through the screen, eventually Said it wasn't meant to be sent to me, what's the penalty of your sentencing? I just told you through a fantasy I was imagining This is what happens when my insecurities make a pa** at me If you can't relate you laugh at what somebody is battling But to me it's like balancing on a beam covered in Vaseline I like the life I have and feel it's highly sought after And I mean that humbly, with gratitude, I am not a rapper Just a person who writes an awful lot in his personal time Likes a couple rappers and tries to bring his journal to life I want to go somewhere I can be mad all the time Where nobody has to wonder what's on my mind Floating on this Heroine Cloud of mine I can't stand it or understand it why you would listen To the frantic rantings of a manic romantic's monologue