A song written to encapsulate my emotions during a not so distant past, detailing things such as coping with the death of my grandma, familial issues, and poverty.
lyrics
Intro:
Mantomas Manson
Miasma-ridden Grandson
Verse 1:
Grandma died, the ceremony's causing schedule conflicts
Got no time to really grieve 'cept when I see the coffin
Now two midterms on the same day that a paper is due
Say we're cool but never ask me how I'm doing, fuck you
Tryna self-improve, but shit just the fan, my granny's phantom
Work in the gym, proving to my dead fam I'm a worthy grandson
Used to think that people shouldn't pay if I get held for ransom
See me looking angry, y'all avoid me, so I write these tantrums
Time for breathing or to bump my tunes, i got none
No more games, nowadays my Playstation just got dust
Homework every day, and it keep coming unannounced
Who's got time for friends with new assignments every hour?
Bet this song's relatable to people who won't hear my past
Like the shit I say but hate it face to face, they try to dash
No pausing in person, pay the price to speak to tortured souls
Prideless,prejudiced, and pain incorporated in my gourd
Out of shit to smile for, my tenacity is losing hold
Fam used to break moldy bread,so now i try breaking the mold
Try and get the things that way back when we could never afford
Poor and dangerous since I was taken from my mother's cord
Loneliest Valentine's I've lived through yet
See all of these couples while my grandma's dead
And I ain't got no one to really share shit with
Tryna steel my heart before I throw bitch fits
Interlude:
Hey man, what the fuck is all this?
You ain't ever been this weird before
Like, you on some weirdo shit right now.
I don't know what the fuck is going on, what the fuck is all this bullshit?
You ain't never been this like, weird before.
Man you gotta cut this shit out.
Verse 2:
Never was athletic, just gold medals when I bust
Tryna pop, think I'm sweet like corn kettle-cooked, no puff
Bad boy broke in many ways, no cash, credit, or trust
My sin is wrath I doubt i'll walk a path headed for lust
Traveled bumpy roads for many years, but I'm still stagnant
Haven't moved an inch, all forward steps got backwards matches
Distance big, displacement zero if we're on mathematics
Tragedies have me enacting all these wrathful tactics
My father play around too much, I just went off on his ass
Yes, he knows what's going on, so no I don't feel bad
See my mom is acting sad, but trash talking in the past
Doesn't care her mom is gone, just cares that her bros are mad
Don't hit me up if we ain't talked in months, that's pity/
The fact we haven't talked shows you ain't really fucking with me
Grandma's dead so now you punks start feeling kinda guilty
Fuck off,rather die alone then talk to you, your filthy
credits
released March 9, 2018
Written and Performed by Mantis the Miasma
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