Wasted

What I think and what I say, are often one and the same. No filters from my brain, 

to my mouth so you can hate. 

I get paid for mine, 

nine lives regeneration.

Who else can sell rhymes, 

To this dead generation?

What you see and what you hear,

Just to chase a dollar fast.

Checks cashed from fomented fear,

Without balance you will never last.