Magazines

The day I subside

Is the day I end my pride

And I just would rather go and die

But thoughts tend to defy

When your monsters come alive

And try to kick you while you cry

And I

Fight back with a sigh.

Cause back in those days

They would call it a daydream

Now in these days

I would dream to be eighteen

Whip out the verse and

Smoke it till it’s mainstream

‘Rari in the hearse

When I DM 'em same memes.

And them pearls on my nerves

Who left me on seen

Now they stay till the birds

Chirp down with the beams

Now they play, don’t curse

Throw 'em like magazines

And the fame in their purse

Is me on their magazines.

By: Arman Yusuf