Among the Sleep

[Verse 1]
I’m seconds from meeting what the Mossberg had to offer
And feed my thoughts of Christ to the altar
I wake up on a red floor, axe in a dead whore
My dick chewed up, why I let this bitch give me head for?
Pigs trying to kick down the door, I’m out for me
Opened the sliding glass door and hopped off the balcony
Fell thirty flights to cars on 10th Ave
Landed on a FedEx-disguised meth lab
And after it blew up, I woke up then threw up
Stuck my hand in my pants, my shit ain’t chewed up
Wiped the puke from my face then leave this place
With a 4-5 in the waist at an elitist pace
No breathing space, I step out and show face
Within three minutes I’m approached for H
Then it’s shotgun to neck, now lose the weapon
Then my skull fragments painted the sky for seconds

[Hook]
Back to my brain like my brain is a home
While I roll with the fame, I still aim at the throne
Are my peers all asleep and I’m the only one not weak
Or am I unconscious, dreaming I’m making a speech?
Is this reality or my memory getting mileage?
Am I staring at the Sun or blood vessels in my eyelids?
Do I make music or is music making me?
Is this really all death or just my awakening?

[Verse 2]
I pick my head up with a face full of drool
Look around the classroom, now I’m some geek in high school
Get fucked with in the hallway and can’t do shit
But write names on bullets and fill a few clips
No need for rags and vodka, got a locker
With enough firepower to war with helicopters
First clique to pass, I’m clicking to release
Each adolescent fist holding four police-killers
And I ain’t paying for the clips I’m spending
When I shoot up the crowd like a heroin convention
Feds storm the building for the sick boy with balls
Made of steel, put shit through toilet stalls
See my teachers dead through holes in the door
Unalerted to cops outside holding the floor
I exit the bathroom, enter a lead parade
Getting shot the fuck up but smoke some pigs on the way

[Hook]
Back to my brain like my brain is a home
While I roll with the fame, I still aim at the throne
Are my peers all asleep and I’m the only one not weak
Or am I unconscious, dreaming I’m making a speech?
Is this reality or my memory getting mileage?
Am I staring at the Sun or blood vessels in my eyelids?
Do I make music or is music making me?
Is this really all death or just my awakening?

[Verse 3]
I open up my eyes to get cracked in the face
Six times while I’m asked for combos to a safe
My wife on the couch dying, raped, in shock
While the gunmen argue on where to take the yacht
Assuming I’m rich, playboy bitch, my own boat
And if I don’t start speaking, I’ma lose my throat
They start chumming the water with my dead ho and laugh
Force me to see great whites snapped on the lower half
Lopped off my arm, threw it in, no guns to shoot
Think of three past deaths and find an escape route
All I have to do is wake up, lift the mast, then get
Shot off the boat and my back to get ripped in half
I wake up screaming with a shotgun in church, feening
To kill myself, but I don’t know if I’m still dreaming
Fifty-fifty chance I’ma die and go straight up
Or straight to Hell. Either fucking way, I’ma wake up!