This Life Ain't Mine - Kero One

Once upon a time there was a kid named Michael

He’d write about his life, but with so many typos

Like when he wrote live, it should have said love

And when he wrote hit, he really meant hug

But he couldn’t dig a hole that’s already been dug

Like you couldn’t smoke a bowl, and not call it a drug

His story so imperfect but that’s what made it beautiful

At times like a circus but that’s what made it suitable

At a school, where kids used words like «dudacle»

Awesome, and radical with care-free attitudes

But as life went on, he put trust in songs

Like when he heard BAD, he put gloves on his palms

When Biv sang Poison, he new jack swung

And when he heard BDP, yo his brain went num

That’s when he got struck by that hiphop bug

And those that had it, were the only ones that new what’s up

The beginning of a story he’d write in bed

Which developed into tears and an ending that read.

Check the rhyme

And check the rhyme one time

Now check the rhythm

It’s the life of mine

Check the rhyme.

And check the rhyme one time.

I feel delivered.

When this life ain’t mine

As the story unfolded, the plot did thicken

When michael played with dirt that soap couldn’t rid him

Hanging with a crowd, that clouded his decisions.

They doubted he was Christian by the way that he was living

But not a misfit, to most your average Joe blow

Minus a bit of lying or a run in with Po-Po

And time to time put his mind in slow-mo

Puffin marijuana till motivation was no-show

Then took his mental photos and wrote em in a notepad

Utilizing metaphors and rhyming his vocab

Unsigned, hella broke, and still at his folks pad

He crawled back to church home turf since dads gonads

Mike knew life meant more than getting by

Living for fame, money, girls or getting high

He heard good deeds could never get him to heaven

But only through grace and the son that God sent in

And that’s when, he felt shivers set in

Palms sweating, off his feet it swept him

A concept so deep he couldn’t sleep

He fell to his knees, as tears hit the concrete.

And it wasn’t concrete where mike was headed next

But in faith he stepped as he developed this text.

Now this concept not complex

But in context a contest

A constant conflict with conscience to conquest

The accomplice promoting Mikes destruction

Peddling greed, self righteousness and corruption

But Mike couldn’t win or even be that good kid

He needed help, to find out how he could live

He wrestled pride, until a few left hooks hit

And accepted Christ, and everything he could give

But Michael didn’t care as people smirked and stared

Some gave him props but inside Michael always cheered

He knew his choice was right

And at times thought twice

But he believed the word cause the word it brought light

And he got it, he’d always be a man of sin

But as long as Christ atoned, Mike was free within

So he grabbed a pen, without hesitation

And called his friends bout plans, that he’d be breaking

And wrote this story, he kept in his head

Entitled, «this life ain’t mine» and it read