Rough Draft. Flow Scheme is kind of tattered. Feedback

Living my life at college, but I don’t know if a life is what you’d call it,
Drinking too much alcohol, thinking about it all, but not knowing what to think about it all,
But I was taught to never let others see you fall, so I keep walking and stay standing tall,
Until I sit down, then wish my thoughts to drown inside a bottle of crown,
Thats not really crown, just some cheapsh*t that was brown, just lay there and look around.

Then the bottle empties itself out, and I follow suit, tryta get to the root and figure **** out,
I’m just Looking for a yellow brick road, but the oz is against me,
But I tryta stay even minded, cus even’s the odds enemy,
But everything I do I ask if its even mine,
Was it created by my own will and design,
Do I wanna be that guy drinkin' red wine,
Or that guy who says his life is fine,
Even though he is just lyin' and tryin'
To cover up the crime of never tryin' to rise to the time,
Or do I wanna keep writing lines about the guys with the wines and the stains,
An hope my rhymes can gain something similar to fame, just somethin that doesn’t sound as lame.

I mean life is a game, just ask Milton Bradley,
But its ****ing insane how many dreams casually become a casualty,
Just for some salary that actually doesn’t amount to the amount of glee they thought it would be,
Just momentarily the monetary makes some moments barely less weary, until the moment is up.