Basket Case

Self, self-pity, self-self pity
 Why the fuck is everybody else giddy?
 I woke up and felt shitty
 Matter fact I've felt the same all week
 Let down on my last album on the shelf sitting
 And I think I might need, help getting out of bed
 Cause I'm here and I keep, spinning on a thread
 I'm my own worst critic, and I gotta write a album
 But I keep hating on my self, it's like I get obsessed
 Cause I hate what I write, say-say something tight
 I be thinking too much wondering what they gonna like
 I don't got a lot of fans, I'm afraid that I might
 Let 'em down if what I make don't relate to them right
 If it don't, then they ain't gonna buy my record
 And if my second doesn't sell better than the last
 I'mma owe the record label cash
 So it's hard to relax and write raps
 I be losing concentration sometimes
 I look at what they sayin' online
 Somebody unfollow me and call me out cause I ain't respond
 I'm behind on my dead-line, and I got a home life
 To juggle ain't no free-time
 My manager callin' up, "what you got another deep song?
 What is it this time, your lady, or struggle trying to be something?"
 Not in the mood to write a weed song
 I'm sitting giving myself a mental beat-down when I rap
 I'm my own worst enemy the energy I have's a waste
 Cause I use it battling myself cause I'm a basket case
 (Da, da, da, da) I'm a basket case
 (Da, da, da, da) I'm a basket case
 Lookin' at this glass of whiskey, wishin' I would pass away
 But I'm always wishing for the worst cause I'm a basket case
 (Da, da, da, da) I'm a basket case
 (Da, da, da, da) I'm a basket case
 I can have conversation with rappers
 I'm not an asshole to anyone unless I have a reason to be
 But God forbid, if they ever had a buzz, or a name
 Then I feel like we are equal, and these dudes always want a feature for free
 I try to network and help 'em out, I just gave 'em a tweet
 But I'm starting to wonder if the shoe was on the other foot
 Would these motherfuckers do the same favor for me?
 But, on the other hand, people think I'm all famous
 I ain't as paid as you think, when I tell 'em the price is
 To get me on a record they are like it's too expensive just to pay me a G
 And I'm starting to feel guilty
 Cause I'm known as the guy who never quit and never gave up his dreams
 So I'm watching dudes tell me that I gave 'em motivation
 Not to quit and they gon' try and do the same thing as me but
 Only difference is, I spent fifteen plus years studying my favorite MCs
 So I kept getting better some of y'all ain't got it, can't hear it, what is blatant to me
 And I don't want to hurt they feelings so I tell 'em that the music that they makin' is tight
 But your image looks bad, and you suck, and you need to give up, and you're wasting your life
 And it's all my fault... damn
 They tell me that I need to tweet more, but I feel kinda immature, typing my thoughts online
 Plus some fans that I got would probably hate me if they knew what type of shit that crossed my mind
 Cause I hate rap
 Let me take that back, I just hate whack rappers for the most part
 Even though I rap fast, I don't like when people try to impress me with double-time
 And they be swearing that they go so hard
 They don't really even say shit
 Anyone can rhyme, thinking that drinking and synching
 The song I'm making, them figures dope, it ain't about the speed
 You gotta make it make sense
 And did I mention that I really hate fake fans?
 I don't understand how one minute, everyone could be on your dick and they say you hot
 A year later, the same fan steady be talkin' shit 'bout the rapper, actin' like they forgot
 That's how the shit works
 First they love you, then they hate you, then they love you again, you gotta toughen your skin
 This kinda shit hurts
 This music industry is dumb, dumber than the comments on YouTube
 Sayin' that I use the N-Word? (Hell Naw)
 I don't rap like that, I don't hang around white boys who act like that
 I done said too much, 'bout to snap, I'm mad
 At the world, even I don't really have my back when I rap it's like... damn