Open Mic: Better Route

(Verse 1)
Growing up I was looking for a better route
too much bottled inside they tried to pry
It out
Stressing bout school kitchen table I would whine and pout
Son quit bitching I’ll give you something to cry about
Remember times I would go see my cousins
Sleeping at my grandmas I’d think nothing of it
Wearing baggy clothes when I step out in public
I could talk about my struggles but that shit is redundant
I could talk about my weight how I think it’s disgustin’
Or maybe insecurities that sit all above it
Or how I hate my job how I feel like a puppet
But up until now I didn’t want that uncovered
But I know things change my destinys is my hands
I tried to make amends with people I thought were friends
I’ve tried and tried again I’m tired of giving in
But Im feeling closer to death then I’ve ever been (uh!)

Hook
I’m just looking for a better route
I done traveled I4 and still can’t make it out
Chevy Malibu with tented windows faded out
I could see my goals in sight if I wasn’t faded now (2x)