Stressed Out

Well something I just wrote because stress is a mawfucka ain't it.


Stress is something I don't plan on keeping on my back.
It's quite depressing but getting rid of it is the key.
I don't need tobacco to ease me, and crack is wack!
I bet none of you experienced a stress like this, uncompelling and unattractive, nothing like this you see.
I keep it non-chalant so it's not that known to the world.
It ain't hard hiding it, but getting rid of it is half the fight.
Stresses from work, to school, family, friends, and of course girls.
So what els can I do?
I chose the best alternative; something I enjoy. Yea what I do is write.
Not right in the direction I turn.
But write with pen in book to see what I can yearn.
This stress sucks, it can even burn.
I just keep on writing tryin' to teach myself. To see if I can learn.
I need my zone of direction and content.
THe insurmountable waves that attack seem so tangible, there's no end.
It's alright, i can fight for myself, I've never been a quitter.
Each time I knock my stresses out, there's a new one delivered.
I'm fine with it though as it helps me get my ego bigger.
Sometimes I wonder if I truly write for relief.
Or have I started writing to finally speak.
It's amazing how the stresses get you to the road less travelled by.
But I take that route anyway. Why you ask? Well it's because I'm one hell of a guy.
But enoug of the conundrums.
I don't even know what that means.
Enough of this stress bullshit, it's time to come clean.
You are basically my shadow that won't leave
A constant annoyance on my back, sort of like an itch.
Hop off, let me breatheeeee.
Stress, you ain't my friend, you're my bitch.