B.o.B - Excuse Me

Critical thinking
A sea of souls selling out
But this ship is sinking
Flooded with watered down lyrics
With subliminal meanings
To wake up another day
Lord, give me a reason
Are these prayers really working
Or just triggering feelings
I vocalize my pain and they say: Isn't it genius?
I'd be considered a legend if I consistently bring it
Now is there life after death or just recall and repeat it
Or does it go pitch dark and just dissolve into pieces?
If that's the case I wonder if I departed this evening
From the top of the 47th and just fall to the cement
For the entire police quadrant and fire department to see it
Would my disembodied soul then reach its path of completion
Or just create another scene
In which to deal with these demons
Not to sound morbid, my views are just distorted and grungy
I should cry myself to sleep
On this mattress made out of money
But I'm not here to be liked, I'm not here to be nice
I'm not here for your war, I'm not here for your fight
I'm not here to be hyped, I'm not here for a price
When I bring you the truth it's not delivered polite
Gamblin' with my life you shouldn't have gave me the dice
You shouldn't have gave me the dice, dice, dice
All this misery shrouded in mystery of violent history
Chemistry
Cure for depression
No there is no remedy
Allergic to bullshit, no antihistamine
Top of the class haters graduate to enemies
Out on your ass is where they intended for you to be
Snakes in the grass, I'll cut them out, eventually
Slave to the media, you got to be kidding me
You got to be kidding me
You got to be fucking kidding me

Yeah
And we live in a state of confusion
I hear what the say on the news
They usually just laying a blueprint
Used to create a delusion
Movies to sway your conclusion
Used to delay your awakening
Steady creating illusions
Clues to mistaken the truth with
No sense debating with fools
Who put all of their faith in the skewed philosophy
With situational views
Too many saviors to choose
I stare at the face of the moon
Too much information
Too many equations
It's too complicated to prove
Stories portrayed we consume
Like thanksgiving tables of food
I'm sorry not sorry
I ain't in the mood
To dress up and play in this room
You can judge me and say that it's cruelty
I see the chains and the whip
I just don't mistake it for jewelry
Fuck out my face now, excuse me
I ain't got no patience today so excuse me