Good rap? Diss me

There's no room for escape, I'm trapped in a cage.
This rent doesn't get any cheaper earning minimum wage.
And I'm in a rage, there's no time to disengage.
Should I be feeling guilt ******* girls barely legal age?

My whole life feels like a roundabout.
A lonely boy scout lashing out to pass out and weed out.
I suppose I'm bound to doubt,
but it all catches up to me living life day in and day out.

I'm living life on a counsel couch. Though the skies are clear, my mind's a smear.
It's the same old **** like a rotating sphere.
The only way I've learned to confront my fear
is to go up with the bottle and down with the beer.

I think I see it in my dreams, schemes and screams.
Perhaps it was in my sleep that I felt the stitches upon my seams.
The end is always close when you're heading downstream,
when such end becomes reality you really start to deem.

I'm battered and broken inside, smoking weed to erase my thoughts.
My nerves have been clogged like an artery with a blood clot.
Is it my fault? My parents were never around for me to be taught
the proper etiquette in this world of fraught and distraught.

I've nothing left to lose, only a journey to gain.
With nothing else of my owning, all I can do is entertain.
Boast what you'd like, but honestly I'd refrain.
There's nothing you can do that hurts more than this pain.