Issues

[Verse 1: Kythre]
Yo, I try to stay classy, but my life ain’t nothin’ flashy
I’m tryin’ to feel jazzy, but my attempts have been trashy
Recently, my attempts at everything have been kinda lifeless
I feel kinda content and I’m as useful as a flightless
Bird, word I know you may not understand how I feel
You may think I’m lyin’, and that my sadness ain’t real
If you met me in person, you’d think I was a normal guy
Kinda quirky, always cursin’ and with a giant damn supply
Of joy to spread around and jokes to make everyone laugh
But instead, I wanna be in the ground with no folks here on the behalf
Of me or my family, and I wanna be left in peace
Why you think I’m so sickly? My mental health started to decrease
I hate the way that I look; my face, and my body
My lack of muscle and the fact that I was built so shoddy
I hate the fact that I used to purge and smoke away all my problems
I wanted to keep straight, but I just fell to rock bottom
Let me tell you all the shit that I’ve done to myself
I’ve cut myself and tried to hang from a fuckin’ shelf
I’ve taken handfuls of pills and tried to fuckin’ drown
In my goddamn bathtub or shoot myself with a brown
I just want to please people, yet I fail at even that
I do try my hardest, but I doubt y’all are believin’ that
Oh fuck I’m about to cry, hand me some goddamn tissues
And please remember the fact that I have some major issues

[Verse 2: Joseph Manuel]
JM
Uh
Tie a rope around your neck and hang yourself with it
That's what you get for messin' with people's lives, you're finished
You ain't ever think that maybe I ain't the one that did it
Well nobody really thinks, but everyone's a critic
And nobody really pays attention when I start to spit it
And I can admit that me too have cut my wrists too
And cried and cried because no one would hand me a pistol
At least you wouldn't have to clean up the mess: just leave me there
Soul from my body left, left me body less
And I guess it's obvious from the start that I'm really weak in the heart
And if you ain't noticed now then, uh, where you been?
Maybe bein' honest, you're tryna make up for your past sense
That just happened; yeah I'm talkin' past tense
But I keep it real, too bad it doesn't pay my momma's bills
'Cause if it did, I'd probably be a billionaire, tossin' out money instead of havin' pity in the air
Anxiety really fucks me up
Uh, Anxiety really fucks me up, what did I have to say next
Got me feelin' like I'm brain dead or brainless
Sensitive, repetitive, how could I ever let a bitch fuck with me?
Lead to a blade so I could cut quickly
But that was two years ago, I'm glad I pussied out
Didn't leave marks, I don't do dumb shit for clout