ABC’s Pt.1


A is for the Atheist, those poor lost souls
Surprisingly they’re most likely to reach their goals
B is for Baptist, they don’t like the Holy Ghost
Which I why they probably need Him the most
C is for conservatives, those who voted for Trump
Only to watch him take office and take a historical dump
D is Democrat, or liberal crybabies
Isn’t it fun being treated like rabies
E is for Evangelist, those who spread the Word
Quoting the opposite of the last rumor I heard
F is fake, word to a lot you Christians
I recommend reading your bible and trying again
G is God, oh praise His holy name
But isn’t it odd that you still act the same
H is for Hell, you don’t want to go there
But then again it’s not like any of you care
I is for impossible, which most of you are
But so is your God, He’s far from sub par




To be awake
To be alive
My eyes roll back
I won’t survive

This nine to five
Or ten to six
Like Hebrew slaves, we go
To make clay bricks

Our desks the pit
This room a Hell
Coworkers or demons
Not a soul will tell

We pray for breaks
And fast for lunch
We follow standards and procedures
Lest we give a hunch

No Gas


Don’t judge me but I just blew my last on a lottery ticket
Why, because money is the only thing that can save… forget it
It looks like I’m destined to work this nine to five
It looks like I should just be grateful to be alive
I’ve cut off everyone, family, acquaintances, and friends
I just wanna know when it all ends
I just wanna sip some wine with someone fine
Someone like the girl I can’t get out of my mind
But it’s looking like that was never meant to be
What I wouldn’t do to be the better version of me

A Way Out


Saying desperate prayers hoping He’ll spare the rod
Nowadays it’s strictly business and God
I’m talking a good ole day job
Because my life is just something else to rob
But I’m grateful to be here, don’t get me wrong
Who doesn’t wanna be owned for twenty and then say so long
That might work for you but never for me
I gotta do something, get famous, start my own company
Anything to make me feel like I was made for a purpose
I’m tired of drunk texts and poems about feeling worthless



Don’t you like how many poems are never positive
Isn’t it sad I often I really don’t wanna live
Suffering from depression, I might be suicidal too
But if go I’m going out foreal this time
No pills I’ll just leave it up to the world to kill my mind
Working a nine to five to survive, I know I keep saying that
But anyone who does it hate that it’s fact
I honestly think it’s demonic to sit in a room for eight
Day after day with a twenty-year expiration date
I dare you to be late from that fifteen to thirty-minute break
All that just for a three thousand square feet in Hidden Lakes
I need something more, I have to find another way
I need quality in my life, I have to live before I pass away

9 to 5


They said to get a degree but that ain’t fun
You’re just happy to be here, yeah, I’m done
Uncle Sam aka The White Man, yeah, he won
“How may I help you”, I can’t see the sun
Run, working a nine to five just to survive
Yeah, I’m still here but I’m not alive
If I told you I was great I probably lied
I can’t find my soul, I think it died
I signed on a line and then went numb
Don’t ask me why you know I’m dumb
Yeah I’m still hood, you know where I’m from