[Intro]
Psst... Kane... Get out of bed Kane...
You can't sleep. You have insomnia. Remember?
Now write me another song
*Yawning*
These fucking voices man... They won't give me a break
Oh you think I'm not serious?
Listen...
[Hook]
I ain't fucking joking!/
What the hell you been smoking?/
I've been changing my clothing./
I'm just tryna find myself./
I ain't even joking!/
What the hell you been smoking?/
I've been changing my clothing./
I'm just tryna find myself./
[Verse 1]
Look... I really /
Miss the days when I /
Did not think that I/
Did not exist. What the/
Fuck!? Look, I've been/
Stuck inside of a../
Simulation. It's frustrating./
Fuck, I'm fading. Heart palpitations!/
Reality is just so unreal./
I made mistakes and I took some pills./
I hate a bitch. I still pay the bill./
I be taking shots but, I aim to kill./
Anxiety attack, huh? Paranoid, he's an/
Actor? It's your own mind man now grow a/
Back bone. If you don't like man well, then I'll/
Smack ya. I've been tryna be good but this/
Voice kicks in and it takes over./
It's been this way since I stayed sober./
It makes music like Beethoven then it/
Makes me play it for ya./
I've told you before... I'm apples, bananas and pears. I've got/
Screws loose. My sanity's rattling. Where? Don't know/
Who's who. Why am I strapped to back of a chair? Cuz you're/
Cookoo! And that ain't the back of a chair! (Yeah)/
Wait... It's not?
No... that's the fucking... This is front of the chair
I see what your saying. Yeah
[Hook]
I ain't fucking joking!/
What the hell you been smoking?/
I've been changing my clothing./
I'm just tryna find myself./
I ain't even joking!/
What the hell you been smoking?/
I've been changing my clothing./
I'm just tryna find myself./
[Verse 2]
Well, that's a bit of a problem when your soul's fractured./
Taking notes. Man, look, I wrote 'em backwards./
I'm sick of sleeping on a soaked mattress/
From my own tears 'cause of my own antics./
Self-loathing's a bad habit of mine./
If I haven't told ya... I've got a brain and it's fried./
Put my brain in a deep fryer./
My brain's strange. Still, I spit fire!/
All eyes on me like I'm 2Pac./
I've got a sick six-pack though (I don't really)/
Yeah, I do not eat no big macs Bro. (oh no)/
I think I'm winning at tic-tac-toe (Uh, tic-tac-toe)/
Yeah, I'm losing at life but, not losing the fight./
Man, I'm too ill-advised. If you did scrutinise/
All my lunatic rhymes, you would probably find/
Something true hidden right at the core in the centre/
Of all of this madness and chaos. I don't know/
What kind of words I could spray that could possibly/
Articulate all the mess. I've gotta/
Get all this shit off my chest. Who the fuck/
Cares? This world is dead. Or at least /
It will be in like ten years. Might as well/
Man up and face all my fears. I hear the/
Devil but bitch, I ain't scared. If I could/
Turn back time and ask the old/
Kane Train in that same frame of mind/
If he would one day be schizophrenic then he would/
Laugh and smile and take another line./
Fucking dumbass! Look what you've done!/
No thanks to your Dad... Fucking scum bag/
This shit's bad. Raise your hands./
Listen.../
[Hook]
I ain't fucking joking!/
What the hell you been smoking?/
I've been changing my clothing./
I'm just tryna find myself./
I ain't even joking!/
What the hell you been smoking?/
I've been changing my clothing./
I'm just tryna find myself./
[Verse 3]
Man, this is serious now. I gotta snap out of the bullshit./
I took way too many drugs; now I'm battling all this./
All I need is a hug. Man, I've been acting so stupid./
Losing track of reality. how the fuck did I do this?/
I used to smoke pot and that was it./
Considered myself a bit of an activist./
It got a bit trippy but, I could handle it/
And then I took that shit to an acid trip./
And it reached a level of new heights. I think I saw some blue lights./
I was getting pizza for munchies and thinking of new rhymes/
One minute, then the next, I was abducted and I took flight/
And now I'm cookoo crazy like Encore Shady *Cockeril noise*/
I really need a lady but, should I be raising babies?/
That's probably the reason God doesn't give me one actually.../
But, if I make money at least i get a Mercedes./
Hip-Hop's come far since way back in the eighties./
I mean listen to these rhyme skills. I climb hills/
Now, That was basic but, still I'm in my feels./
It's probably true you have to sell your soul just to /
Build a rhyme scheme that I build./
I don't have a mind. I just have a minefield/
And still wonder how the fuck I ain't blown up/
'Mount of blood that I spill or ink the pen that I drill/
Into the paper with vengeance 'cause I'm real./
I pull out my heart then I rip it apart./
I'm thankful that all of you can fucking witness the art./
I fire rounds from with inside the dark. I'm going schizo./
I can't kick it, I wish I never risked it with drugs./
I know you listen to Kane and think that his shit is flames/
But, listen, without me, he'd be some shit in the drain./
I ain't Kane. I'ma demon that locked in his brain./
I'm holding the reigns and it ain't gunna change and.../
I ain't even joking!
[Outro]
*laugh*
I ain't even joking...
Motherfucker!
*laugh*
