lirik lagu nathan r. allen - had enough
[verse 1]
all my music sounds like middle-cl-ss white-boy hip-hop
the chorus to this song won’t sound as genuine as it was thought
it won’t rock you, not like it wants to
god knows the last 4 years of constant sloppy vocal takes
hasn’t fostered any progress in my apt-tude
this beat, is not on beat
the synthesized sounds from a yamaha keyboard
will never produce anything more
than a kick-snare pattern with some frickin’ cheap chords
and even now, i’m trying not to stammer over every word
on my left, i see a kid doing acoustic cover songs
on my right, i see a kid hitting sampler pads like it’s his job
straight on, i see the same bas-m-nt b-st-rdy
that i’ve seen since i was seventeen
the same set of dell speakers that hiss at +10 db
i’m sorry, give my grat-tude for what i have but dude
when your emotions want out and their only translator
is these cheap binary signals, you feel a little trapped
when i hit play, all i hear amplified is vain calls for adoration
there is nothing new under my own creation
memories of past shows are nauseating
lengths i drove to play a couple songs, i hate it
which is more debasing: not being known locally after 4 years or being 20 years old and caring about your music’s download count?
none of my work sounds polished
i talk off beat because i can’t rap on it
how come everyone else seems so flawless?
like they can’t possibly slip and i’m just a wannabe kid
who makes middle-cl-ss white-boy hip-hop
don’t tell me to keep grinding unless you’re also going to define it
if two albums, a mixtape, and youtube videos fits in with “grindin’”
you’re going to have to find another word to give advice with
cause i’m still trying
i’m still writhing for a door to stick my thigh in
and i’m still writing a genre of music with too many hyphens
middle-cl-ss white-boy hip-hop
[hook]
(i have had enough) when your own personality fights against your current definition of success
(i have had enough) when you can see your potential self, but only as capable as your flesh
(i have had enough) when every person you call a friend bears the mark of your offense, they forgive but don’t forget
(i have had enough) when you don’t speak the native love language of the country you were born in, so it reflects you with contempt
(i have had enough)
[verse 2]
and i’m aware of all of it
just like i’m trapped in a genre of plastic music
i’m trapped in a body that refuses
to learn the love language of america
to know friendliness the way a dictionary does
i’m talking years of dumb watching people talk
watching, as peas find pods so naturally
they make it look so easy, mom!
how’d i get to be this keyless vault indifferent to being robbed?
why do i deliberate over every trivial thought?
i would love to answer these questions if i could
but i hardly know how to answer “how are you?” with anything more than “good.”
i leave conversations as stagnant as my music business
please accept this stupid grimace
it’s the best i can do when given
this enthusiasm-drained body that uses
forced laughter as a morse code to signal welcome
why’s my output so held up?
had you seen the blank stares, gaping mouths wide
lowered eyebrows, neither would you think these words had a place outside
i’m so worn out by the edgy, over-polite
style of speech that i’m always met with
i’m sorry i don’t know how to warm my complexion
to these ice-breaking questions
i do not have the same sk!lls you were blessed with
i’m so aware of it
i’ve hung out with some of the nicest pretenses you could ever meet
somehow everyone’s just friend of a friend to me
the ghost of cringes past looks the same as present, and yet to come
you’d think incompetence would die of old age but it never does
i’m so aware that the only thing i have confidence in is that
i’m the only flawed conversationalist on earth
but i swear i have a sense of humor
i’m not loose, nor was common sense inherited
i’m so painfully aware of it
it’s not hard to tell you’re ranked last when you’ve got
a thousand names on your back and you’re standing on the shoulders of ants
i’m so aware of every interaction i’ve ever slipped in
you’re better with kids
i’m either a dumb tortoise or a slow hare
i’m so aware and…
[hook]
[verse 3]
you ever find yourself plagued by parallels?
painted like every piece of nature is spelled and made into
a perfect constellation to remind you that you still suck?
hope decays further into endurance the more you say your day will come
this summer, i’ll be wrapping sandwiches, changing garbages, and having my flaws highlighted
for the third year, i will spend three months debating if things like proactivity and -ssertiveness
are either being ignored or sleeping in a fairytale fortress
we get trained up in the way we guess we should go
and when we finish high school, we can’t depart from it
our parents teach us each the only dialect of english we know
and that defines how we are known, how we correspond
with everything within the reaches of our globe
we’re all just one step slower than our ideal
and we suffer the recurring wrist slaps
a little more diligent
a little more considerate
could i actually tackle my shortcomings or would i remain
embarr-ssed of everything i parent
ignorant to all my interests?
i don’t actually have that much depression, guys
i just have a lot of dreams and a restless mind
i can’t handle being one step behind
sometimes you gotta lay it all down at the feet of the condenser mic
it gets you like:
[outro]
i have had enough
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