Yusef slim
Forty seven
[verse 1]
This is like the bottom
And i wanna fucking end it
Replacing full stops with a bullet in my sentence
Talking suicide, every bar i swear i meant it
Know you saw the signs bitch, you told me you’re attentive
They say my method of escape, so selfish
I’m trapped inside the feelings, this is hell bitch
Ask me why i’m numb and why i’m cold like well it’s…
Combination of the pills the doctors sell shit…
And yeah i lied, see i’m still cutting
Ain’t even tryna die, i just wanna feel suttin
Get high to get by, i don't use this weed for nothing
My soul my own macguffin
Looking in the sky like why me?
I believe in god slightly
But he ain’t help so i’m closer to a devil
That’s an indian giver, left me gifted in the nettles
We’re splitting, don’t place your faith in us
Crazy than a bag of fucking angel dust
Your inner demon, is the same i trust
I aim and buss, and spray the whole place with blood (nah)
Don’t place your hope in us
To cope i just
Lay there emotionless
And i ain’t really woke as such
I’m doping up, so how you think i’m coping huh?