A Personality Trying to Split me

[bad boy T]

Let me walk upon the path, that's filled with the golden light,
Words are weapons, never using swords, so I hold the mic,
Cold as ice, my heart skips a beat, quick holding fast,
Life shatters just like the dreams full of broken glass,
Struck from the floating gas,
Fast cardiac and your brains fucked,
I never said I gave up,
I come past the toxins, pumping my veins up,
Shackled with the chains tucked,
Metaphorically, they attached to my soul,
I grip the abyss, come back out the hole,
I blast out my flow, with the art from the deadly vibe,
Strike like a deadly guy, holding this heavy knife,
But I pick up my heavy mic, facing my demons,
Strike across the cervix, gasping... barely are they breathing,