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letra de daylee thoughts - the thought

[chorus: the thought]
i’m ten pounds of sh-t in a five pound bag
i don’t know how to get off my ass
i’m just a dumbass that don’t go to class
these my daily thoughts, daily thoughts
i’m ugly as f-ck ’cause i don’t get no ass
i’m down on my luck ’cause i don’t get no cash
i’m a piece of trash, burn me down to ash
these my daily thoughts, my daily thoughts, yeah

[verse: marcus lee]
procrastination, mind is vacant, i just need a vacay
sometimes i want to load all of these raps into an ak
and flood the airwaves, create some stairways for my brethren
marcus turns to martin, when i tell my brothers get the stepping
marcus just an artist using words as weapons but i’m not a fighter
been a hider, hide ‘n seek champ since ’07
get to it tomorrow, may i borrow some ambition?
mine left a long time ago, i’ve not forgiven, nor forgotten
i been spoiled rotten with the gift of gab, but lately
in these days i been feeling like some gifted trash, i’ve sifted past
the trips that have had me so convinced that i was simply bad
writing in past tense, i’ll find a different pad, these words
they’ll find a different home, so why is it they feel that they are still alone?
eventually they’ll see that they don’t build alone, i guess i’ll keep this going
’til that feeling’s gone, i guess i’ll keep this going ’til that feeling’s gone
it helps to share these daily thoughts for healing, bro, f-ck!
[chorus: the thought]
i’m ten pounds of sh-t in a five pound bag
i don’t know how to get off my ass
i’m just a dumbass that don’t go to class
these my daily thoughts, daily thoughts
i’m ugly as f-ck ’cause i don’t get no ass
i’m down on my luck ’cause i don’t get no cash
i’m a piece of trash, burn me down to ash
these my daily thoughts, my daily thoughts, yeah

[verse: the thought]
i’m a stupid piece of sh-t, i don’t know what i’mma do about it
yeah, i’ll take a hit, ’cause my thoughts been chopped and screwed, i doubt it
back to b-tching, back been itching, caught and dropped a few, i’m loudest
satisfiction, ass been ditching class and coughing too, i’m out it
jack been sick of competition, lack thereof if speaking truth
out of f-cks to give for fakes and tears for my mistakes in booths
i’m ’bout as calm as volcanoes, got my psalms from the bezos
i count it up like j. cole, joking, focused on the revenue
got them moldy potatoes, got some issues with women
got them oldies and kratos spilled some bleach on my linens
i been haunted by the record but i’m getting by!
i’m crowded, taunted by the lesions, man, i need to cry!
i’m broken worse than glass, i’m a shadow of my past
even though the gift of gab been keeping me from acting brash
i’m a hundred types of sorry, i’m a beggar at the step
if these my daily thoughts, then i ain’t got none left, yeah

- the thought

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