Yo,
anybody seen my diary?
Oh, there it is.
I gotta write this * down.
Check it out.
Dear diary, I'm having a little problem.
I can't make it by myself,
maybe you can help me solve it.
I'm confused and I don't know what to do.
I'm hoping you can help me
cause there's no one else to talk to.
I want a job, but it ain't for me.
I try to talk to my dad,
but my old man ignores me.
He says I'm delirious and I drink too much.
So he doesn't take me serious,
but little does he know I'm really losing it.
I got a head, but ain't no screws in it.
I be thinking deep.
That's one of the reasons that night I can't sleep.
I thought it would change when I was sober,
but even now I'm still peeping over my shoulder.
Is there life after death too?
Ain't one about the nigga with the cane and the black suit.
Ain't one about cancer.
Too many motherfucking questions and not enough answers.
Ain't no use in trying.
We might as well face it.
We were all born done.
There's a black book in Brad's hand.
And it's the diary of a madman.
Dear diary,
the day I hit a nigga with the torch,
shot him in his face and watched him die on his front porch.
Left his family heartbroken.
Flashbacks of him laying there bleeding with his eyes open.
I can't put the * behind me.
I know I'm here somewhere, but I can't find it.
I used to be a drug dealer on the for real,
but now I'm a born killer and it ain't no change in me.
It used to be hard,
but now it ain't no thing to me.
To go up to a niggas house,
put a pistol in his mouth and blow his * brains out.
No doubt if they're cursing, I'm gonna take you.
Cause I'm a * killer by nature.
You gotta let me love and bring your weapon.
I got an AK-47.
It's gonna be a pretty son.
Cause you're * with a nigga like bun.
And I was taught not to kill like a Vietnam vet with a
thousand yard step.
So welcome to the slaughterhouse nigga.
Red running and I'm gonna be the grave digger.
And if you want a cap, come cap me.
I'll trigger happy like my great grandpappy.
Just watch for the chrome in my right hand.
My second entrance on the diary of a madman.
Yeah.
Help me call some friends.
Sometimes I think I'm going to get some friends.
The world's looking dark for instance,
maybe cause I'm looking from a distance,
but then again,
I wear a blindfold staring at the motherfucking world.
With my eyes close to myself,
I'm a stranger walking in the
footsteps of danger.
It's a long path ahead of me.
I got to get some wet cause everybody
here scared of me.
I had a job, but they fired me.
My wife walked up.
Now I'm living in my
diary.