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sketch tha cataclysm – love poems to my impending poverty lyrics

[verse 1]
every word i write on the page, stains my future, possibly
becomes a love poem to my impending poverty
now pardon my prophecy but i understand what’s got to be
weird meals, no income, and struggle constantly
hunger, no property, honestly don’t bother me
i feel i’ve found solace in my sonic sovereignty
the working life has got to me, wages, stress obnoxious peeps
nothing’s stopping me, these are probably unconscious pleas
to get my boss to fire me, just so it inspires me
to move on and be the -sshole i was designed to be
finally, i’m guessing my life is in perspective
somebody scratch my back and get the knives that i’ve collected
i want to live a life of beat making and spitting rhymes
so i’m ready for the canned goods, in fact i’ll think they’re d-mn good
i plan to take a stand, should i stand? forget the d-mn foot?
or follow my dreams and be my boss? any man would
i’ll keep along that path even if it leads to welfare
lines and i could tell there’s no hope of reaching bel air
imagine the pink slip. . . i’m thinking well there’s
my p-ssport to h-ll or heaven, depends how you see it
and with love in my heart, i fight today
to embrace a tomorrow that may never become a brighter day and i’ll
never say i’ll throw my mic away
’cause i can’t think of a better way to throw my life away

[hook]
putting what i’m feeling in my chest
on the table bet it on the rest. . . i’m saying that’s all

[verse 2]
each time i pen words, i serve existence papers
follow dreams, thoughts of income become vapors
later to the lawyer, peace to the fireman
i want to grab a mic on stage speak fire and inspire them
admire men and women sticking, quitting, living it
desire zen thinking but my boss be acting like a little b-tch
those of y’all that think i’m speaking ignorant
f-ck you then, i’m ignorant, i had that job i’m sick of it
i figure its happy or sad, money don’t matter
admit it, no interest in climbing an economic later
either fatter pockets or drop logic and comments
for gas money. . . a little props and conscience
so f-ck common sense man, tonight i pray
that i’ll be able to pay my bills or find a way and i’ll
never say i’ll throw my mic away
’cause i can’t think of a better way to throw my life away

[hook]
putting what i’m feeling in my chest
on the table bet it on the rest. . . i’m saying that’s all

[verse 3]
i want to live life, expire my breath
doing what i feel and nothing less
embrace my soul so then in death i could just smile
i want to live true to what i am
walking in my shoes a solid man
trying to proud in where i stand, and just smile

- sketch tha cataclysm lyrics

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