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Thirty golds up in my mouth, but they don't fit my teeth no more
Nose ring up in my snout, guess I ain't too street no more
All you rap about is death
Everything is so depressed
How you going to get some press?
How you going to come up next?
But, I could give a fuck about a cheque
I rather go and cut my neck
Put a bullet up in my vest
Put a knife up in my chest
And do some drugs, let people gossip
Under my tongue, yeah, that's suboxone
Oxycontin bitch, I'm toxic
Dirty cracker, bitch I'm rotten
Top to bottom, $uicide
G to da 5 to da 9
Yung Chri$t, $lick $loth
Rising out that slime, killers with minds
Lo-fi Columbine
Kill them all with time
Kill them all with time
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Too fire to hit the blunt
Might pack it up and head out the front
Sayonara sucka
This ain't a gun to my head–it's a brain hugger
Painting the ceiling with little pieces
Killing myself, I don't really need a reason
Death is the reason that I'm breathing
Yeah, I'm beating my heart, but my heart doesn't stop beating
Guess I'm the dead mother fucker
Call me James Spleen, I'm that dead mother fucker
Dead pimp pimping dead ass hoes
Tangled clothes
Rotten ass bodies at my show
Close the door and throw me in the hole
Here come the crows
Overdose on overly overcast skies
This is my goodbye side
Suicide riding with the tubes tied
You might think I'm shy but I just really don't want to fucking meet you
Kill Your$elf

Text přidala wendy1134

Video přidala wendy1134

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