excerpt from a rap im working on
(bout my friend who resorts to drinking and weed too much and is so down and suicidal)
makes me wonder if time is money
and moneys the root of all evil
does that make tall money trees your biggest upheavel
yet you cant keep track of time, the minute the second
you burn money on railroad tracks, you like it, you get it
the smoke comes out, your feet push forward
but you look back, and your esteem floats lower
you marinate in marijuana
and wrap your tears in rollin paper
then drown in pools of tequila, vodka, and beer
I could have probably won this if I entered
Goddamn, I feel bad for Sam.