Blood stained fabric, cotton up in an addict
Life so tragic, seem like death is attractive
You step up into the minds
Of the crime-infested youth ain't no jobs
Ain't no stop to this police abuse
So we kill, drill, OD popping pills
Fantasize a steal when you went
Home without a meal
Welcome to the grave, no debate
59, 666, the Grey
No escape from my fate, bitch
I'm ready to die today

Fuck the police and judges
Fuck the priest and Gods judgin'
Fuck the state and the public
I wanna see tall skyscrapers crumbling
We all meet the shovel
Don't have to act humble
Distance myself from the huddle
Nothing but trouble
Find me a nice quiet place in the jungle
Keep it lowkey, keep it subtle
Only a couple allowed in my bubble
Puddle of blood the result of the hustle
Cuddle my drugs by the bundle
My frontal lobe constantly struggle, uh

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Aristos Petrou, Scott Arcenaux