Joe Budden Welcome To Real Life
On the outskirts of my mind, there's really nothing left
Integrity's gone, I've lost myself again
On the outskirts of my mind, there's really nothing left
Hell is loose, and it's only just begun
On the outskirts of my mind, there's really nothing left
Violet dreams of violent kind, they haunt me now you're gone
Violet dreams of violent a kind, kaleidoscope mind of hate
The battle with everyone was really just the enemy within
I hold the truth, I am the cure, I hold you down, I beg you now
Try not to look me in the eye, as I'm headed for the kill
I know I have to do it, even if I'm lost
Can't seem to remember the day that I lost you
But it seems like I never had you anyway
This ceremony of opposites in my relation to both shadows at play in complete and
utter darkness, and the inexplicable absence of light on the brightest of days. The
reality presented to me by shadows, appear no different that the one displayed by
light. I am the difference, I am the anomaly, I am the abyss, and the void. It is the
false truth, and the truth is always false.
Can't seem to find the outskirts
Can't seem to remember the violet
Can't seem to remember the day that I lost you
Can't seem to tell a dream from a lie
Can't seem to tell you why I'm here.
