Insult To Injury
504 Plan
Why am i so good at bein a fool, why is it so hard for me to realize it, i try to remember the good things i say, its hard to, its hard, its hard to do, im not a poet just an idiot, tryin to make my blind way through the days, dont talk to me,when i am saddened, its hard to, its hard to do, when im alone in my room i just think of the days that i sat sad and tired, when im alone the only thing for me is you and everything you do, im lazy and stupid, but i cant get enough of you lately its changin each day, the reasons i be with you i just wanna be right here, why am i so damn hard just to please, can any one make any sense out of me i try remember the good things ive done, its hard to, its hard to dochicago softcore
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