Lyrics

[Verse 1] Standing still gets you nowhere, so you know how I feel I been standing here for quite some time keeping it real When music is my inspiration, life is my template Or life is my groove, and music is my outlet Viscous circles full of stars orbiting my head No, head full of viscous stars making lots of bread It angers me, but I can't write deep insightful rhyme Knowing that I've been seen as a rapper for quite some time Angel on the left and devil on the right Weighing down my shoulders, my advisors conspire to fight The plight can never be displayed upon my face though An angel in the devils image holds the last peso Waste no moment in pursuit of any whim Hold no grudges losses or wins Live life to the fullest feel it deep in every limb Being hurled to the end and always thrive to begin [Chorus] I wanna quit my job In order to work more Write more Get more These are goals to work for I wanna work full time for love and not a pay check I wanna live my dream with no regret [Verse 2] I've watch time fly from my wrist in digital increments Each one leeching off my mental inventiveness I'mm sick of this but not to the point of pistols and c-4 But that might be next week so i guess I'll leave before I need to detour away from the course of this rat race Rodents don't run the same after staring at this cat's face I guess that explains why I could never get into it Visioning making a living from tips and minimum dividends Pay scales and hate mail two breadcrumbs from the same trail Neither of these is needed for me to see they greed sales Details and intricacies pensions and fees too much attention of these Prevent your freedom to breath He who believes that nothing in life is free Doesn't see that evil's at the root of every money tree Cunningly running us into the ground Listen around until the whispers of your missing existences are found Between the sounds invading your space the day to day pace Of things with no face too tainted to taste the race of the chase Which of these wakes you up drenched in cold sweat Causing folks to retire that ain't even old yet What a petty predicament that we seem to be sitting in Sentencing sevance into the slippers of simpletons I'd rather love what I do and do what I love Than owe my soul to the company store for government grub [Hook] [Verse 3] I know my faults I think I know myself sufficiently I only wanna take my time and just be me Cause every time the pen and pad combine with imagination They drive me straight up to frustration, aggravation Penetration of thought, pacing round my room like a wild predator Hunting down another simile or clever word to say But I'm an introvert the stuck reaching out In dispersed with creativity but not doubt I see myself as stuck in a rut Suck in my gut and kick out A load of crap I'm worthy of the space that I've been placed at My friends tell me that I've got an inferiority complex I hear no outsiders authority vexed I break my first pen Grab my notebook by the outer edge of the paper and then Proceed to pull the bindings the spirals are seemingly unwinding Swiftly let gravity begin [Hook x2]