Verse 1:
This is the message my friend, this isn’t the end
It’s a cataclysmic event, called psychologic revenge
For this saga to end, another chapter must begin
For a boy to become a man, must be accepted as, a-men
Visualizing certainty, but swimming in a sea of doubt
And you’re about to learn a valuable lesson bout
This verbal assault, im taking it out on piece of paper
Brushin my shoulders off, relinquishing all the haters
Cuz these aren’t just words to me, this is golf to me
What you’re about to read is what I feel to a tee
No exaggerations anymore, no more stupid metaphors,
The glass was half full, but now that waters on the floor,
Empty, the glass is now kinda how I am as a man
I’d rather not give a f*ck, but im one to give a damn,
I’ll never be the guy that plays hard to get, or treat girls like sh*t,
Those are the type of guys that are on my hit list,
I’m not one to play games with any of you lames
You’re in no position to judge me, I don’t need to change
But I did…
And I just want to make one thing clear
Don’t just skim what I write, open up your ears
I didn’t change for you, sh*t, I changed for me
The emotional pain was to much for me to take physically
And I say this cynic-ly, like a viper spewin Hennessey
Burnin when I open my eyes, I wasn’t seein things vividly
So I’m splashin water on my face, to disperse the venom
But its already leaked into my blood, affecting my system
Guess im paying the price now because it’s taking its toll
We’ll call it the venomous mole, because it’s digging a hole
These are just the cards that im dealt, contemplating to bluff or to fold
I’ve turned into a bad beer cause I’ve aged bitter and cold,
Because when sweetness isn’t appreciated, personality gets tweaked
To form a new person, a new beginning, a new physique
And the weights build muscle tissue that cover up the weak
It’s my armor, my guard, hiding behind these verses that I speak
Hook:
I got a pocket full of money
A closet full of cloths
Garages full of toys
And a life that I chose
This is the path that I lead
The only path that I know
People shower me with hatred
Yet its envy that they show
The Ex-File
Verse 2:
Back against the ropes like Ali in Zaire
Wearing Pacquiao's shorts imbranded No fear
Persevere is the action of overcoming the severe
When you feel like the beginning is gone and the end is near
So I’m burying my soul in my materialistic obsessions
Only money can buy things that are guaranteed possessions
Because you can’t make someone care, but you can make someone not
And for this disgusting theory, I spit on, and I hope you rot
You never asked me how I was, when my aunty died
Yet u were there for your ex when he falsely cried suicide
Imma be honest, that really pisses me off inside
And I’ll be damned if I should just put those feelings aside
That’s the last time I ever use someone to try and confide
Cause all you get are lies, denies, and Jekyll and Hyde,
So eff a second chance, this is the 3rd person Lance
This is the ground that im standing, not moving from this stance
I’ll never let someone rip the passion out me
Try and you’ll get burned, not to the 3rd, but fourth degree
You know what they call people that are fake, a fraud
And I applaud your act, you dishonest jawed façade
This will be the last time I ever waste my ink on us
Cause there’s no more us, cause there was never any trust
And that’s not on you, that’s on everyone before
All the lies, cheats, hoes, sluts and all them whores
And im big enough to admit you didn’t deserve that end of the stick
But if I meant enough to you, you woulda stuck thru the thick
And I may be acting like a prick, but you deserve nothing more than a d*ck
Because to me all you are is just another sad and confused little chick
I cant believe I ever wondered what I had done wrong
I cant even believe im still writing of you in this freakin song
Putting my life into words, telling stories with rhymes
Running out of things to say but ill never be a mime
Still searching for that perfect line to make me change my mind
But everytime I rhyme I feel im running out of time
Hook:
I got a pocket full of money
A closet full of cloths
Garages full of toys
And a life that I chose
This is the path that I lead
The only path that I know
People shower me with hatred
Yet its envy that they show
The Ex-file
Verse 3:
Truth is….
I still look at your photograph, and remember all the times that we’d laugh
And on a scale of one to ten, it’s un-measurable on that graph
But how you gonna lay there and tell me about your past
Like you really wanted out relationship to freakin last
So now it’s easier for me to talk to u from my notebook,
Cuz you’re not talking back, and it’s easier for me not to look,
And so far, no girl can come close to fill your gap
But that’s not meant to put a feather in your cap
Our lives have taken us on changing lanes in different ways
That’s why god created us all with different strands of DNA
Some look for hope in the newspapers section of astrology
I had hope in loving you flawlessly, but
You asked for space, and I gave you astronomy
If you had asked for a lake, I would have gave you the sea
But then you wanted a compromise, conversations we had a thousand times,
But I won’t just be your friend, that idea that I despise
You see I got you figured out; you’re a lot like physics
Because I analyzed you like those ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics
You’re like a broken vending machine that I once yearned
Takes all my hard earned, and gives me nothing in return
But I finally got something back when I realized this was over
It wasn’t a new beginning, what it was, complete closure
You were like my drug, but once again sober
Getting rid of these weeds, like a ridin lawn mower
So I guess something’s are left better unsaid
And some relationships are left better off dead
So this documentation is going in a room full of file folders
Thinkin’ of starting an ex file, case agent, Mulder
Because this is an unsolved mystery, lock it and throw away key
And I’ve been singing this stuff for about a quarter century
Hook:
I got a pocket full of money
A closet full of cloths
Garages full of toys
And a life that I chose
This is the path that I lead
The only path that I know
People shower me with hatred
Yet its envy that they show
The Ex-File
Verse 4 (last one):
Unlike a nail, screwed and never got to enjoy it
Same routine, not my dream, I better destroy it
No matter what I did, it was never good enough
Wonder why I always tried to be good enough
Couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t ever good enough
So now I’m going to be alot better than good enough.
Stealin those words from Joe Budden of Slaughterhouse
Dressed up today in my Ralph Lauren and Levi Strause
Cologne sprayed on with the scent of Giorgio Armani
More concerned about me than anymore of them hotties
And some may think that im a walking contradiction
I say all works of art are derived from fictional nonfiction
But today, im starting my own maturation
So I ignore them, and continue my dedication
First thing to do is admit my imperfections,
But that will never stop me from striving for perfection
And as my heart beat races, need medications and prescriptions
This isn’t something that you’d find in a men’s health subscription
And if you cant figure it out, these lyrics are my invention
And their intention, is to relieve me of my own intuition
So let me leave you with this, let me meet your expectations
Before you turn this off and start screamin profound degradations
But just be forewarned that this is me speakin of damages
Soldiered up for war, yeah, getcha effin bandages
Cause I got a message to all you pathological liars
Hope you get the karma of a Jason and Michael Myers
You cause a missin heart to be hung up on flyers
Keep printin off more, ink wheel spinnin like tires
Lost and never found, striking out, no pitchers mound
Buyin notebooks by the pound so my words don’t make a sound
Breakin lonely down, and you get a lone lie
Which is one to many to make a heart die
My intentions aren’t to pry but to sympathize
To all that’s been a victim of a bad surprise
And to the giver of that news I antagonize
Telling all the unfaithfuls to create platinum skies
By letting your rings drift up with the butterflies
Up into the reflection of ocean tides created by lone-ly cries
And this is the last memory ill share on this series
Cause I don’t consider this a song, I consider it my stories
Hook:
I got a pocket full of money
A closet full of cloths
Garages full of toys
And a life that I chose
This is the path that I lead
The only path that I know
People shower me with hatred
Yet its envy that they show
The Ex-File
This is the message my friend, this isn’t the end
It’s a cataclysmic event, called psychologic revenge
For this saga to end, another chapter must begin
For a boy to become a man, must be accepted as, a-men
Visualizing certainty, but swimming in a sea of doubt
And you’re about to learn a valuable lesson bout
This verbal assault, im taking it out on piece of paper
Brushin my shoulders off, relinquishing all the haters
Cuz these aren’t just words to me, this is golf to me
What you’re about to read is what I feel to a tee
No exaggerations anymore, no more stupid metaphors,
The glass was half full, but now that waters on the floor,
Empty, the glass is now kinda how I am as a man
I’d rather not give a f*ck, but im one to give a damn,
I’ll never be the guy that plays hard to get, or treat girls like sh*t,
Those are the type of guys that are on my hit list,
I’m not one to play games with any of you lames
You’re in no position to judge me, I don’t need to change
But I did…
And I just want to make one thing clear
Don’t just skim what I write, open up your ears
I didn’t change for you, sh*t, I changed for me
The emotional pain was to much for me to take physically
And I say this cynic-ly, like a viper spewin Hennessey
Burnin when I open my eyes, I wasn’t seein things vividly
So I’m splashin water on my face, to disperse the venom
But its already leaked into my blood, affecting my system
Guess im paying the price now because it’s taking its toll
We’ll call it the venomous mole, because it’s digging a hole
These are just the cards that im dealt, contemplating to bluff or to fold
I’ve turned into a bad beer cause I’ve aged bitter and cold,
Because when sweetness isn’t appreciated, personality gets tweaked
To form a new person, a new beginning, a new physique
And the weights build muscle tissue that cover up the weak
It’s my armor, my guard, hiding behind these verses that I speak
Hook:
I got a pocket full of money
A closet full of cloths
Garages full of toys
And a life that I chose
This is the path that I lead
The only path that I know
People shower me with hatred
Yet its envy that they show
The Ex-File
Verse 2:
Back against the ropes like Ali in Zaire
Wearing Pacquiao's shorts imbranded No fear
Persevere is the action of overcoming the severe
When you feel like the beginning is gone and the end is near
So I’m burying my soul in my materialistic obsessions
Only money can buy things that are guaranteed possessions
Because you can’t make someone care, but you can make someone not
And for this disgusting theory, I spit on, and I hope you rot
You never asked me how I was, when my aunty died
Yet u were there for your ex when he falsely cried suicide
Imma be honest, that really pisses me off inside
And I’ll be damned if I should just put those feelings aside
That’s the last time I ever use someone to try and confide
Cause all you get are lies, denies, and Jekyll and Hyde,
So eff a second chance, this is the 3rd person Lance
This is the ground that im standing, not moving from this stance
I’ll never let someone rip the passion out me
Try and you’ll get burned, not to the 3rd, but fourth degree
You know what they call people that are fake, a fraud
And I applaud your act, you dishonest jawed façade
This will be the last time I ever waste my ink on us
Cause there’s no more us, cause there was never any trust
And that’s not on you, that’s on everyone before
All the lies, cheats, hoes, sluts and all them whores
And im big enough to admit you didn’t deserve that end of the stick
But if I meant enough to you, you woulda stuck thru the thick
And I may be acting like a prick, but you deserve nothing more than a d*ck
Because to me all you are is just another sad and confused little chick
I cant believe I ever wondered what I had done wrong
I cant even believe im still writing of you in this freakin song
Putting my life into words, telling stories with rhymes
Running out of things to say but ill never be a mime
Still searching for that perfect line to make me change my mind
But everytime I rhyme I feel im running out of time
Hook:
I got a pocket full of money
A closet full of cloths
Garages full of toys
And a life that I chose
This is the path that I lead
The only path that I know
People shower me with hatred
Yet its envy that they show
The Ex-file
Verse 3:
Truth is….
I still look at your photograph, and remember all the times that we’d laugh
And on a scale of one to ten, it’s un-measurable on that graph
But how you gonna lay there and tell me about your past
Like you really wanted out relationship to freakin last
So now it’s easier for me to talk to u from my notebook,
Cuz you’re not talking back, and it’s easier for me not to look,
And so far, no girl can come close to fill your gap
But that’s not meant to put a feather in your cap
Our lives have taken us on changing lanes in different ways
That’s why god created us all with different strands of DNA
Some look for hope in the newspapers section of astrology
I had hope in loving you flawlessly, but
You asked for space, and I gave you astronomy
If you had asked for a lake, I would have gave you the sea
But then you wanted a compromise, conversations we had a thousand times,
But I won’t just be your friend, that idea that I despise
You see I got you figured out; you’re a lot like physics
Because I analyzed you like those ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics
You’re like a broken vending machine that I once yearned
Takes all my hard earned, and gives me nothing in return
But I finally got something back when I realized this was over
It wasn’t a new beginning, what it was, complete closure
You were like my drug, but once again sober
Getting rid of these weeds, like a ridin lawn mower
So I guess something’s are left better unsaid
And some relationships are left better off dead
So this documentation is going in a room full of file folders
Thinkin’ of starting an ex file, case agent, Mulder
Because this is an unsolved mystery, lock it and throw away key
And I’ve been singing this stuff for about a quarter century
Hook:
I got a pocket full of money
A closet full of cloths
Garages full of toys
And a life that I chose
This is the path that I lead
The only path that I know
People shower me with hatred
Yet its envy that they show
The Ex-File
Verse 4 (last one):
Unlike a nail, screwed and never got to enjoy it
Same routine, not my dream, I better destroy it
No matter what I did, it was never good enough
Wonder why I always tried to be good enough
Couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t ever good enough
So now I’m going to be alot better than good enough.
Stealin those words from Joe Budden of Slaughterhouse
Dressed up today in my Ralph Lauren and Levi Strause
Cologne sprayed on with the scent of Giorgio Armani
More concerned about me than anymore of them hotties
And some may think that im a walking contradiction
I say all works of art are derived from fictional nonfiction
But today, im starting my own maturation
So I ignore them, and continue my dedication
First thing to do is admit my imperfections,
But that will never stop me from striving for perfection
And as my heart beat races, need medications and prescriptions
This isn’t something that you’d find in a men’s health subscription
And if you cant figure it out, these lyrics are my invention
And their intention, is to relieve me of my own intuition
So let me leave you with this, let me meet your expectations
Before you turn this off and start screamin profound degradations
But just be forewarned that this is me speakin of damages
Soldiered up for war, yeah, getcha effin bandages
Cause I got a message to all you pathological liars
Hope you get the karma of a Jason and Michael Myers
You cause a missin heart to be hung up on flyers
Keep printin off more, ink wheel spinnin like tires
Lost and never found, striking out, no pitchers mound
Buyin notebooks by the pound so my words don’t make a sound
Breakin lonely down, and you get a lone lie
Which is one to many to make a heart die
My intentions aren’t to pry but to sympathize
To all that’s been a victim of a bad surprise
And to the giver of that news I antagonize
Telling all the unfaithfuls to create platinum skies
By letting your rings drift up with the butterflies
Up into the reflection of ocean tides created by lone-ly cries
And this is the last memory ill share on this series
Cause I don’t consider this a song, I consider it my stories
Hook:
I got a pocket full of money
A closet full of cloths
Garages full of toys
And a life that I chose
This is the path that I lead
The only path that I know
People shower me with hatred
Yet its envy that they show
The Ex-File
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