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contakz - november 12, 1994 كلمات الأغنية

november 12, 1994
a soon to be mother pushing out a baby boy
the father by her side he’s giving her support
but she struggling
should’ve known this would be hard its her first born
the sky dreary raindrops falling all around
the doctor opens his mouth
“one good push and your son is out.”
the mother gives a final push like racing to the finish line
then dead silence
then you faintly hear a cry
the mother holds the baby boy
the sky starts to clear up
the sun shines down
mother and father both tear up
“welcome to this world my child”
is what they both would say
“have you thought of a name yet?”
“yes little demontae”
the child opens his pretty brown eyes and his parents look
the father looks down on his son and his brain is shook
he’s headed to basic soon so he can take care of them
responsibilities he ain’t ever ran away from them
the mother worked too to ensure that his life was right
grandmother would babysit he became a prince overnight
spoiled rotten but he learned the value of hard work
got love from his family and returned it even when it was him that they had hurt
growing up he learned the world isn’t a nice place
bullies everywhere he went tried to ruin his nice face
but he was nice with sp-ce
give him a little and he’d fight back
swinging punches that he had to learn from his nice dad
but he wasn’t good so he had to take his beatings
and over time he could feel something hot inside him breeding
till one day he had enough
after five years of the hazing
he snapped in his cl-ss his friends saw that he was raging
he would stand up finally prove he was man
and wouldn’t tolerate this bull anymore he took his stand
gained respect school wide moved and made some new friends
and let his anger subside till ’09 when his best friend died
his grandmother
the one who gave him the nickname prince
taken away so soon his anger flared yet again
anyone who tried to test him could easily get it
he didn’t care
honestly he was scared and wouldn’t admit
it was his friend gone so soon
how could he live without
contemplating the thought of suicide then doubted seeing her
in the next
till one day he couldn’t take it
the first time
the .25
clicked seven times
somehow he’d make
god was telling him:
“no it’s not your time to disappear
you still got little brothers that look up to you there
keep writing those lyrics in your head and do not play around
and if anyone steps to you go ahead and slaughter them clowns.”
he took it all as a sign so channeled his rage
into the pen on the pad as he scribbled each page
song after song he wrote for one hit six miss
developed a craft
in the lab until he spit like this
going fast or slowing down it’s whatever he’s feeling
feed off emotion from a beat till he’s coasting on writtens
seven years she’s been gone twenty two after nine four
he’s becoming a man now he’s some punk little boy
he’s grown into his own with a mind so nice
heart angelic with thought processes that cut like knives
in his home he’s been grown like a lab test tube
waiting to be unleashed like biochemicals do
fayettenam on his left rock city his right
he’ll carry both on his back like atlas
holding the weight of the world till his spine just snaps
the cause of his own evil setting up for brighter futures
welcome the nephilim
i am the one who introduced you
even with all of this light he has a bit of darkness
the equivalent of sora when he became a heartless
a shadow of his former self his rage doesn’t have a cap
he’s quiet about but his mom knows one day he will snap
the only thing that was his cage was his first friend so dear
but since she’s gone he spends a lot of time living in fear
that one day he will flip
and cause apocalyptic damage
but he fights it
he’s ripping at the seams he cannot even stand it
he’s grown to a fine young man with a dark side hidden
but if you test him he’s activating his devil trigger
to murk you with a strap, sword, shield, mace in his backpack
november 12, 1994 no sending him back
gone

- contakz

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