The Bus Stop

I’ve been sitting at this Bus Stop Ever since me and my talent had a bust up So used to putting other stuff above us That you’d think I ain’t even bothered by my tough luck And I lost love Through my troubles I’ve been sitting in this rain Watching ripples in the puddles Asking myself If I’m gonna get on? Sometimes I feel like I should have never picked the pen up A true confession of a writer when he’s fed up The pleasures, the pains, the treasures to gain And whether I can weather the rain in this terrain Trying to refrain from letting entertainment and fame win Afraid to even step off this spaceship I came in I gained friends who would say I go against trends But I just put my pen to paper, and prayed it made sense To those kids who ain’t built for the bits Yet knowing…she’s a bitch with some beautiful lips stick with life Wishing being filthily rich Was instant like microwavable meals from the fridge I feel it in my guts like it’s digging in my ribs And I’m sick of it, feel to give up like cigarettes But will I regret saying ‘I don’t wanna spit’ When all it is is dribble on a disc If my scriptures are a distant memory, considered a myth Then will I whisper that ‘It is what it is’? ‘Cause in the past tense, when my future was at risk Man I didn’t treat my present like a gift Instead…I was just sitting at this bus stop Ever since me and my talent had a bust up! Sometimes I feel like There’s no excuses Except my roots is where the youths are ruthless And I’m trying to find that route out ‘cause the truth is I don’t wanna hang about so I loosen nooses I used to be the nuisance at the back of the bus Then my tunes got a few home improvements But using whose blueprint? Clueless…I was just another school kid Taught that I should move based on colour like a Rubik’s Cube Stupidly thinking I could move units Where the exhaust fumes stop me from blooming like a tulip If ‘being real’ is ‘fluent in being foolish’ I’m ‘a change the tyre on that wheel…no toolkit ‘Cause now I’m big, I’m still pursuing music Knowing if I miss the bus they’ll rub it in like masseuses All because I bare it all like a nudist And pour out creative juices I still wish that… I wasn’t sitting at this Bus Stop Ever since me and my talent had a bust up So used to putting other stuff above us That you’d think I ain’t even bothered by my tough luck But I lost love In my troubles I was been sitting in this rain Watching ripples in the puddles Asking myself If I’m gonna get on? And I don’t wanna take the bus though……No! (I don’t wanna take the bus though, No, No, No!) Because I lost love In my troubles I was been sitting in this rain Watching ripples in the puddles Asking myself If I’m gonna get on? Welcome to the Bus Stop!