Istasha
In Honor of Spooky Season
[Verse 1: Istasha]
Serrate that cunt with your bitch blade
Running like a semi but you radiate primadonna
Slit at your wrist but you still make
Shit, with a [?] at you wanna get a run up
Do not wanna miss, when the hit's transmission
Depend on your reason you missing the pieces
Stuck in your prison no shit
I can't keep waking the [?] parcels
Standing leaving nothing but a dark abyss where shapes go missing
Disconnecting fuckboy statement [?] distance
Screams and shivers fear resisting
Never taking part in what I can't see, I speak deep roots
High dimension, crashing past I ride increase, don't please me
Far from my intentions

[Verse 2: Depth Strida]
Bodies on the porch, gone
Crash it's crimson dark slaughter
It's my only sport I regard it as resolved
That's what you get for talking shit
Get a body [?] clip
[?]
Mercenaries is the best, I pop your head like it's a cyst
Strida killing demons, spooky season I'm awake and you be sleeping
This dimension is out of place
It's a pit of fucking snakes
[Verse 3: Istasha]
Line 'em up like cases, fine approach just like it's Columbine
Never take another shot, no bitches on my epitaph
Sick and I'm pissed, I'm chasing a bullet, no fuck this in your way
Like I shift controls your brain and this is just a part of pain
All this time I reach empty pockets, I breathe it raw and toxic
Consequential, over the spine and reeking of disembodied
Part of body solvent, missing, reaching for nautical fucking-
All of this redundant when your preachers sending ships for starving

[Verse 4: Depth Strida]
Feel like crying, feel like dying, why the fuck is death inspiring?
All these sentences so wrong, [?] dead, I'm fucking strong
Well I guess I'm not the best, so I tie a knot, bitch
Shake me from the top left, all the fucking reason to my mind
[?] can betray to live this life, still I can't see a reason to survive it
Fuck, got this shit I'm out
I don't need you with your doubts, no one loves me, it's my fault
Talking about dying, you're all talking about clout