Overthought Title

Flows broken
Beats ferocious
Throat is burning
I can't lose focus
Fuck your circus
Fuck these people pleasing
Fucking sleazy little bitch made niggas
Picking up they fucking styles from these industry pictures

A bunch of SoundCloud carbon copy
Cop and paste walking
Stalking all my little moves but you stay hating out in public
I don't deserve it
Or maybe I do
I can't see my back when I'm walking
I'm never talking
Or maybe I am
I can't see my mouth when I'm squawking

Bitch made niggas they talk the most when the jig is up
Post they pictures, take off the mask when the cameras up
Swear they with you, and turn they back when their time is up
Can't fuck with them or waste my time staying conscious, fuck

Rolling through your shitty little apartments
Like a target ain't no super market
Glove compartment, commit arson
I stay true to myself, I ain't no fucking model
I can't stick to myself

Feel like I ain't the only one inside my fucking head
Since just a kid, I'm talking to myself and busting heads
Meds never work, they make me feel like I'm a fucking sped
Wanted to be a therapist, I guess I'll be a clown instead

I'm so done with being fed up
With the waiting and
Beating on myself again
Hide the fucking bruises
Put on faces for the cameras then
What



Credits
Writer(s): Daniel Ocampo
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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