WasteofSpace

Still doped up
Don’t approach me when I’m rolling up
Gold blunt guts in the platinum cup
I kill my lungs and left my body numb
Can’t feel a thing you could put me in the rain
Droplets running down my face
But my skin cannot sense a thing
Hold up, hold up
Every day I’m getting
Older, older
Every night I’m tryna
Focus, focus
But I can’t get it
There’s something wrong with my head
And I can’t explain it
I’m running out of options if I ever had any, try not to panic
Body itching I’m trying to kick it, life’s my bad habit
I cause a scene then I’m napping, goodnight
I am what’s after this life
We are the Lords of the Flies
On our own island, we rise
Lot of people say they do what they don’t
Never seen you alone in these roads
Thirty in my pack like a cartridge I blow
On the shoulder of the mighty river going with the flow (ah)
Wait, where I go, I just do what I want (want)
Like whoop there it is, ain’t nobody gonna tell me shit (no)
No more scrapping for the rent (rent)
No more stealing for some shit (shit)
I was always in some shit
And I swear I’d never admit
That I needed a change of pace to really go and arrange
My life in some sort of order that doesn’t result in pain (what?)
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
NoRedeemingQualities until I’m gone
Yeah