"Untitled Outro (64 Bars)"

I guess it's best nowadays that everything is left a secret
'Cause the more you reveal, the less they wanna peep shit
I got a lot of people claimin' they in my corner, but fittin' me for that dunce hat
An' others who say they interested but pro'lly never once heard me rap
I shouldn't have to tag muhfuckaz just to get 'em to listen
But you know how it is, gotta make 'em pay attention
It's funny that when I share some shit dissin' Obama or backin' the police
That fuckz come out the woodwork to say they piece
But once I share them links, eyes are obviously closed
Lyin' like they didn't see it, but the truth is what I know
Then this sappy loverboy keeps subbin' me in his posts
I shouldn't even acknowledge 'em, but you know how kids are on the coast
Hippies, hipsters an' beachboys, the bane of my existence
An' wannabe Conscious rappers wit' unrhythmic spittin'
I've come across so many who can't flow, but wanna criticize my tracks
Because I switch it up ever so often when I rap
Hatin' on the Auto-Tune an' the materialistic flows
Upset that I say how I feel despite who wants to oppose
Then my girl wants to complain, an' shit I love her to death
But what she says makes me feel like I can't be myself
When I'm Fineprint or SAVAAR, 'cause the second a bitch is mentioned in my lines
Her feelings are hurt, though the lyrics are designed
To express my dreams an' past goals, shit, they ain't nothin' but rhymes
However, I know she don't even see it that way
Maybe one day she'll be able to separate the fact from the fiction
Wit' all the books she reads, I thought she could discern the truth of my admissions
An' I know she's hearin' this an' feeling quite disrespected
For that I apologize, but I have to express my stress
Movin' along, sometimes I can't tell if Ron really has my back
When I see the shit he posts an' don't know how to react
Because when I post somethin', I have to inbox or text to alert him it's up
An' in my paranoid mind, that shit sucks
Because, I know he works a lot, but it's quite funny
That he can share memes an' other things while supposedly makin' money
An' I shouldn't complain, but I have so much fuckin' pent-up rage
I deserve the muthafuckin' respect an' attention, especially wit' how my bars have been raised
Even at this age, I still don't have a strong enough sense of self
To stay motivated an' keep pushin' despite e'ryone else
Not backin' me how they used to, sometimes I lay down an' shed tears
An' I feel that's pathetic to even express to my peers
For one of my biggest fears is failure, but how can a nigga make it
When the ones who should be helpin' keep tryin' my patience
It's enough to make me say fuck this rap shit an' fuck a muhfuckin' deal
'Cause y'all worship an' idolize those who don't even keep it real
By now I've had my fuckin' fill of the bullshit an' bein' ignored
Why I gotta sound like these wack niggaz out to muhfuckin' score
Your ears for those plays I strive to make e'ryday
Why I gotta be on iTunes or Spotify to make a way
Why I gotta even try to get attention from folks who don't even wanna hear?
An' most of all, why the fuck am I even here?!
But yo... shoutout to the ones who still listen an' download
Keep ya umbrellas an' raincoats on, this ain't yo' downpour
This shit is for e'ry fuck who told me not to stop but they stopped checkin' in
Guess I'm takin' too long to make them moneymakin' record spins
What the fuck happened to my lil bro Pete? He was diehard over my bars
An' where the fuck have Epitaph, Marlin an' Escobar been thus far
Wait, forget that last one, I know why Esco doesn't listen
So, I'm gonna just move it along
I shouldn't have to make some Pop-type songs just for you to sing along
But I up an' fuckin' did it just to prove the doubt in my mind wrong
An' shit, I'm gettin' misty-eyed writin' this shit
I should tear it apart, because y'all don't respect my art
An' what comes from my heart, so why I even continue?
I guess it's true, they'll never love or miss you 'til someone ends you
So I'm gone...