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little rockstar, young renegade, al - master (peace) lyrics
[verse one: little rockstar]
valentine’s 2021, out front with a ladder and a broom
in an attempt to remove, a couple icicles, huge
now i’d like to include one segway into a much greater issue
i awake to the news, another shooting at a school
michigan state, valentine’s day 2023 as for a timeframe
now i’m losing’ my train of thought
but think it’s outrageous school’s and church is now dangerous
really and crowded sp_ce is
walmart is a target like they traded places
teachers being educated on procedures for thеse situations
demonstrations building barricades in
a battlеfield or elementary, hard to say which is the safest
just as hard to wrap my head around how someone acts with such amount of hatred
turning pages
[hook: little rockstar]
do you need dollars to dream?
redeemed, can anyone be ?
free, if nothing is free ?
if yes, are we being deceived
nostalgia can be a disease
interweaving themes
we’ve been blind to let the blind lead the blind
can anyone see?
[verse two: little rockstar]
word vomits or hot sonnets?
enough of the bot comments
i want to see something honest
i want to be something honest
i wished on a lot of comets
felt like lo’ak a lot
wandered in comic shops
purchased some bone books
saw stafford throw ‘no looks’ for years with low recognition
i guess there’s a lesson _ when you’re patient success is given
unless it’s the refs and it’s scripted then the integrity’s missing
shows i’m not regular spittin’, mordecai, rigby or
riggin’ games, is that what we’re doing?
shame, is that what i’m feeling?
blame, is that what we’re placing?
drained? incredibly so
[hook: little rockstar]
do you need dollars to dream?
redeemed can anyone be ?
free, if nothing is free ?
if yes, are we being deceived
nostalgia can be a disease
interweaving themes
we’ve been blind to let the blind lead the blind
can anyone see?
[verse three: little rockstar]
headachin’, wake and take four ibuprofen, have to open
slowly roll in, then it’s evan in at eight, rotate, no sections
some days i stop in sleven by the entrance for refreshments
before i come in through the exit to punch in an order breakfast
a portion of depression, a side order of stress
a plethora of lessons, another of regrets
and the total for the check comes to over easy eggs
with a few sausage links and a piece of white bread
a masterpiece who hasn’t mastered peace
another 4 am i’m half sleep trying to figure out the path that’s meant for me, i’m told i will eventually but what if that’s in centuries ? i reflect on my first memory
in which i cried, why must we die? i’m told it comes from empathy
(lost)
poised to find quiet in the noise
almonds in the joy
or i’m trippin’ like the missions in chicago, illinois
not sure who i am, still have to find my voice
but maybe i’m the sum of the problems i avoid
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