Cobain
Went from attempting suicide to killing motherfuckers
Second thoughts so they didn't have to pump my stomach
Family and friends flummoxed
To me it seemed clear
Those I hold dear didn't see me falling down a summit
In the ER for the night
And they're asking me questions like why'd you try to take your life
I don't know
Maybe it's emotional trauma
Or it's a lack of purpose
Or it could be a combo
So the bed that they gave me stripped of sheets
Seated next to paranoid schizophrenics in misery
Mrs. Bennett I'm not really ready for low level imprisoning
Whatever my words are hollow
Almost swallowed a poison I'm hearing voices
My psyche whispering my name
They're drawing blood
Energy starts to wane and things are just seeming faint
I hope they understand the pain
I hope they understand the
Who's the president
What's today what's your birth name
I don't care all I know is I Cobain'd
I'm withdrawing from nicotine and them weed strains
Haven't ate a thing since the morning I've got a fried brain
Please don't send me to the psych ward
I have got a lot of shit to fight for
That attempt was moderate I'm not sure
A loony bin's appropriate
Fuck it I'm probably the prime candidate
Whatever you mandate
We're sending you to Bushwick Psych
'Cause you almost took your life
And you have a history of suicide
What about the bright side
What about the bright side
They strap me to a gurney
Transport me in a thin gown wind blowing
Yo my mind racing probably win a world tourney
My mother's stomach is probably churning
The world's still turning
I must rekindle the fire burning inside of you
That loves discerning between the men and the boys
Feel like my sense is destroyed
Renovated the void it's not comfy
I needed some hope and I've got something
Second thoughts so they didn't have to pump my stomach
Family and friends flummoxed
To me it seemed clear
Those I hold dear didn't see me falling down a summit
In the ER for the night
And they're asking me questions like why'd you try to take your life
I don't know
Maybe it's emotional trauma
Or it's a lack of purpose
Or it could be a combo
So the bed that they gave me stripped of sheets
Seated next to paranoid schizophrenics in misery
Mrs. Bennett I'm not really ready for low level imprisoning
Whatever my words are hollow
Almost swallowed a poison I'm hearing voices
My psyche whispering my name
They're drawing blood
Energy starts to wane and things are just seeming faint
I hope they understand the pain
I hope they understand the
Who's the president
What's today what's your birth name
I don't care all I know is I Cobain'd
I'm withdrawing from nicotine and them weed strains
Haven't ate a thing since the morning I've got a fried brain
Please don't send me to the psych ward
I have got a lot of shit to fight for
That attempt was moderate I'm not sure
A loony bin's appropriate
Fuck it I'm probably the prime candidate
Whatever you mandate
We're sending you to Bushwick Psych
'Cause you almost took your life
And you have a history of suicide
What about the bright side
What about the bright side
They strap me to a gurney
Transport me in a thin gown wind blowing
Yo my mind racing probably win a world tourney
My mother's stomach is probably churning
The world's still turning
I must rekindle the fire burning inside of you
That loves discerning between the men and the boys
Feel like my sense is destroyed
Renovated the void it's not comfy
I needed some hope and I've got something
Credits
Writer(s): Andre Mangano
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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