And I'm just surprised at how cold I am.
And I feel this evilness inside of me.
I feel like I want to grab the walls and rip them down to the streets.
I want to pick up the sidewalk and throw it to the sky.
I want to take my spray paint and spray the walls all of my hatred.
I want to take my guitar and plug it in on the roof.
And I want to fucking scream.
And it's because I have this forever loneliness inside of myself.
I am truly loved here.
But my feet ain't on this ground.
Since 13, I've been flying from city to city state to state country to country.
And home is nowhere for this skat.
I'm floating on a cloud.
No home in dese bones.
I don't have my soul stabilized anywhere.
And therefore nothing means as much to me.
I'm not connected to anything.
Other than myself.
And I feel like it's just me Naukietimin' on the streets.
I wish it was night so that I could go out and crawl.
I wish I had crawl partners.
I wish I had hoodlum budz.
I want people to climb the walls with me.
I want people to take my clothes off for.
And I want to take off their clothes.
And maybe I can fuck away my anger, too.
I want a brotha lova who don't care none.
And can groove with my groovy friendship.
I want to do a lot of things.
And I want them all big.
I want to start doing things here so that I can feel myself on the streets again.
So that I can feel like Brooklyn got me, and I gots Brooklyn.
Right now, it's just selfin'.