Helpless

(Equinox) [Verse 1] Woke up in the morning, wife’s griping and bitching There’s no Similac for the baby, no lights where we’re living No food in the fridge, this the tightest position I’m bout to lose my lid, get my sights on a victim My way and type of living, this shit has to change [Landlord: Shut the fuck up, I ain’t fit to be a sperm donor snatch your chain Fuck it, sell crack cocaine, I’m telling you motherfucker go rap for change] Alright, look I got your point, I want you to know I’ll be back in a couple hours, it’s under control I run out of the door straight feeling lost as f**k What the hell am I gonna do? Steal an armored truck? I walk and strut aimless as I fix me a plan Then I bump into Damon selling sixty a gram As I think sticking him up ain’t the wittiest scam My gun clicks blam now I got his chips in my hand [Hook x 2] I feel selfish, think I’m gonna use my nine I feel helpless, think I’m gonna lose my mind Nobody else is here to help me stabilize I feel helpless even when I pray to God (Equinox) [Verse 2] Now I’m patting him down trying to get all he got With no thought process of someone calling up SWAT With no thought process that I’m on my own block It’s like no contest if I get caught up and locked Stolen for gwap I need all the dough he had As I’m searching through his jacket, what a police badge? Now stop, no way man, he’s a cop? My knees just lock, I can’t flee, I freeze in shock My Reeboks won’t budge though I want em to move My mind saying to my body f**k run out your shoes Punching my tool I hear the sirens getting closer Why’d I decide to ride with my toaster? Usually I’m cool and calm with my composure Stupidly I lose my mind and say it’s over, it’s over I take a breath, put my heater to my head There’s no escaping death [Hook x 2] (Equinox) [Verse 3] I sit down next to Damon, put my gun to my head Thinking to myself all it takes is one and I’m dead And the someone just said, “Stop, freeze, please don’t do it!” I look up, see cop cars and some DT Buicks All I see is a sea of blue, a bunch of guns drawn With a man in a stance, in his hands a bullhorn ”I’m Officer Crout, wait, let’s talk this out.” I reply, “What the fuck is there to talk about?” ”There’s plenty to talk about, it’s not as bad as you think.” You don’t know the half man, you ain’t my dad and my shrink In a blink my anger shifts from me to them He can see I won’t feed into it and speak as friends An evil grin comes to my face, his eyes shocked F**k it, why not? I’d rather lie inside a box Take my nine, aim it at them as time just stops It’s not a suicide, man, but suicide by the cops *Gunshots*