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Isaiah Diaz

3:12

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I tried to write some new shit. It didn't sound like me
Yeah, it sounded like Orion Sun's song concrete
Yeah, it had the melody and everything, low-key
Even now, I can feel the flow creeping through the rhyme scheme
And the rhyme scheme is something identical entirely

Why try to shit on artists for lack of variety
When I don't have a style that can't be found in a Variety Magazine
Might as well cover the song in its entirety
I thought that I would never care

I thought that I could make song and never care if it was never shared
But now I'm fuckin' scared. I'm fucking terrified
I almost got hit by a car! I could've fuckin' died
Without accomplishing what I wanted to do in life

Could've left the world without so much as one goodbye
Just a bloody mess and baggage that I to bring to God
And all I'd think to say to Him  is "hey, at least I fucking tried!" I mean
That's what matters, right

But it's not enough
What if people hear Dead Air and try to call my bluff
What if this is all I got and it's not up to snuff
And all of this amounts to me just catering a dinner rush

I'm cleaning all these dinner plates just wishin' I could make the cut
I'm using all the elbow grease to scrub away the fuckin sludge
I ventilate the brain to try and air out all the fuckin dust
And even then I seem to have the same problems surface when

I write some new shit. It doesn't sound like me
Yeah, it sounds like the song, JET, by Cities Aviv
Yeah, I looped my first sample just from hearing that beat
And now the inspiration's holding up a song about me

Tryna justify breaking off a friendship like it had to be
Why shit on other artists for their shitty tragedies
When every song I make about us just equates to texts like, "are you mad at me?"
I might as well just let the friendship atrophy

It's crazy, thinking I can't be the greatest if nobody hates me
I can make a million songs and still think that I'm lazy
I can't take a breath until I best the ones who raised me
Can't relax until my life is someone's else's daydream

I'm in fucked up shape
I'm in a fortress of my making thinking shit won't change
I think my work amounts to nothing if I don't get paid
And I'm no good at nothing else so guess I can't be saved

Guess I'm stuck right here, as I am right now
Gonna die like this because there's no way out
Guess I'll go f*ck myself, guess I'll shut my mouth
'Cuz what's the point of tryna make a mark to be buffed out

I got good hand dealt, I had things planned out
But it's too late now, I took the wrong damn route
I'm just an NPC, I'm just a face in the crowd
So when I scream out loud you don't hear new sounds

You just hear some old shit that doesn't sound like me
A bunch of pieces from every artist I wanna be
Melodies and rhyme schemes they all splitting at the seams
As I try keep the stitches closed so they don't see me bleed

I'm a problem, the opposite of creative integrity
Cry the world a river while some would kill for my pedigree
I used to never lay the blame but now these days my brain can never let it be
Pursuing this music will be the end of me, f*ck

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