I had my midlife crisis early, so if that means I die when I'm thirty then I'll be happy
Everybody looking at me, can't say that shit when you're working gladly
But my wings are flapping and my clothes are dirty
19 years old and my joints are hurting
Getting off the floor is a chore to me, face down on my bed, nothing more to see
I'm so bored of beats, I just lay down laws like a court decree
More room in my head for a sore defeat, I just keep on walking, can't afford the seats
Up high so my nose can bleed
Not much else to let free, takes a lot to be me
Goals in my head that I have to meet, nobody in my bed but the half of me, yeah