They say you should count your blessings
and appreciate your roof, food, and bed.
They say to count your blessings,
but I live for tomorrow and amidst all these sorrows
blessings can be easy to forget.

I’m tryna clean up my act but it’s proving to be difficult.
Tryna cut back’s not sittin’ well with all my womenfolk.
Can’t be on both of these tracks. Well I guess I was, but now I’m convicted. Woah.
A criminal. My principles are pitiably bendable.
Fuck, I’m finna go and probably make some plans,
probably hang out with some friends, hit a party, maybe dance.
Yeah I’ll drink. Feels incomplete without a High Life in my hand.
I just wish I had more self control. Y’all probably understand.
Yeah y’all probably thinkin’ “Damn, He’s not really gonna stop.”
And you know what fuckin’ sucks is that I’m probably not.
Just a thought: Look at all those kids never started drinkin’, smokin’ pot.
They be chillin’. They’re not feelin’ like they missed a golden opportunity,
that’s you and me. Man, light a blunt to this.
I don’t practice what I preach. I’m just a fuckin’ hypocrite.
If you don’t drink or don’t smoke weed then you will never need to quit
or get in trouble. Life broken, rubble. Tryna make the puzzle pieces fit.
Shit.

Hook

Sometimes I get in this mood where I’m feelin’ like a fuck up
and my friends all get confused like, “goodie, shut the fuck up
Dude. You kinda fuckin’ rule at school and shit but still get fucked up!”
but I still be feelin’ shitty. Man, my life could use a butt plug
or some drugs. Let’s puff one. I’m a bad influence on myself.
“But it’s just some bud, son. Not tryna fuck with too much else.”
Man, shut the fuck up brain. You know it’s you I’m trna help,
plus my body would be sorry to be sittin’ in a cell.
Man, I’ve already been to jail. Not tryna go back even a little bit.
In the video let the F bomb slip. Wish I had just said “fiddlesticks.”
Lady Luck’s a fickle bitch and I struck out. I missed the pitch.
I wanna blow my head off. I can almost feel the pistol grip.
That’s a bit dramatic, but regret’s a shit sensation.
I’m a hazard to myself. Pink get’s my inner deprivation.
My motivation isn't health and I do fine with education,
But I’m scared of what I choose to do in sketchy situations.

Don’t feel quite myself. I can’t eat.
Too much work to do. Who needs sleep?
Should I try anymore? Like I did.
What’s the only way out? Bite the bullet.

Hook