You ask me to help you?
How can I when you've kidnapped and stole him
For all I know, even murdered
By nightfall, we will have left your Earth
You will not see us until it is time
Time for what? ($uicideboy$)

When I die, auction off all my body parts
Let's see what oddy costs
Under my skull the shotty's cross
Got all these opps on my dick like it's made of metal
Making so much money it's like my boss is the Devil
She loves me, she loves not, I done ran out of petals
Littered the ground with rose bits, I'll grip this thorny stem forever
A portrait of my pain, an homage to my suffering
Same tale I been uncovering
I'm staining the whole world grey, y'all get back to coloring

Slickity slickity sloth, Thug Bach
Shoot up the mass, it will be minor
Jabbing my arm, no Pfizer
Dick cuffed like it comr with priors
Liars, all around me talking hugs and love
Attaching kisses that come with wishes for death
so they can touch my trust, fuck
That's some hard motherfucking truth
Still contemplating suicide
Just upgraded a couple coupes
Morally bankrupt, call a skank up to pretend she love me
(But I do love you)
Ho, don't talk while you fucking sucking

Uh, should we, I, that was a little short, bruh
Well, fuck, bro (can we, can we)
I just did eight bars 'cause I thought you said all you had to say
yeah, I got more shit to say, bro, like (well, I mean)
What? Tell me (they sayin' you lost touch)

Who the fuck said Ruby done lost his touch?
Blame my success on lots of luck
But lots of luck didn't get your bitch unfucked
Blame my absence on the fact that my dick got stuck
Call me evergreen, your bitch never seemed like she lost touch
Begging me she wants her jaw fucked
Withdraw from dope 'fore I withdraw my cash
Use her tongue to collect ash
For the stash I guess I'll smash
Pull off in a GLE wagon, fucked up, I might crash
Just thoughts and feelings from the half of me that is white trash

Bitch, I cheated death
Ain't a thing that I can't do
Manipulation shawty
I could sell ice to Nanook
I could sell ice to the jeweler
I could sell Christ like I'm Judas
Self righteous type of a shooter
Make my life insurance shoot up, wet screwed up
uh, product of my environment
My therapist was talking Freud
I rolled my eyes then fired the bitch
Why would I quit?
My drug of choice is overdosing, duh
My dick got no limits, I'm Master P pimping
And making them bitches say, "Uh"

You would be horrified at the sight of us

Rain, rain go away
Two hundred on the dash, watch me hydroplane
Gang, gang, gang's all Grey
From New Orleans to Ottawa
From Atlanta to The Bay

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Royalty Network
Writer(s): Aristos Petrou, Scott Arceneaux