I found this letter, addressed to me, written in my own handwriting. it said, "what up, son? let's get straight to the point, it's time to move on now." "How many times you gotta hear it before you feel it? Something must be broken. Make a mistake one time - it's cool, Son, you're human. Make the same mistake two times, three times, four - Homeboy you're being stupid." If you don't feel it, it don't work Insecurity made me its enemy, It knows it cannot beat me, But still tries to defeat me. My gaze starts to blaze, Light rays dissect the haze, To reveal all my wicked ways. I'm sick of days going by unappreciated, Separated from the seasons while inebriated. So I shape-shift and take on the form of the one looking at me, Now he thinks to himself, "Who can that be?" EXACTLY! My Point exactly! Well Done, Son! If you don't feel it, it don't work