Pull (feat. Pryce Jamison)

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WilKin

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I hate working this job
I hate all the people
I hate living like this
How could you say that it’s equal
I don’t know what it’s worth
I don’t know when I’ll land
I got a blunt in my mouth
Two joints in the hand
I got the pen in my pocket
When I click it and lock it
Can’t get rid of the demons
So I smoke till they talking
I’m a f*ck up a failure
All the feelings familiar
I just don’t give a f*ck
Did I already tell you
I'm so sick of being pulled
I'm so sick of knowing what I need from everyone
And now I'm going off
I'm gon' blow this top of the roof I'm tearing up
And I know this shit gon' bang
And your shit won't be enough
To keep me from leaping
I don't fucking need you
Cry about yourself and you know that we're not equal
If anybody asks yeah we're going pretty lethal
I'm not going back, I'm not going back
Since a age zero, been no hero
Been deranged since Minute Maid and Sub Zero
Which indicates this shit stays on my pillow at night
Thoughts of killing like black widow in fights
But wait, I don't mean murder
I mean the fucking tracks
No running laps, just chucking raps
A corporate walls, and laws attached
Who’s fault is that, the law attacks
Black and brown, so cap and gowns seem so detached
Cause they want us to resolve to grabbing straps like

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer