Missing Info
Sick of how I'm feeling, huh
Ain't that the same shit
Worried I ain't fitting, huh
Ain't that the same shit
Got a shotgun to my head, boy I'm clutching
Say I'm too extreme, boy you ain't seen nothing
Got my sanity creeping out the deepest trench
Will it make to the top
Well it's anybody's guess
That shit battered and bruised
Mental crazy confused
Got the reaper reaching out his hand, it's hard to refuse
Sticking with the music, reasons got more then a few
Never see me flexing cause therapy cost more then the gold do
What you finna do
Talking more than you got to
Test the boy we going down together, boy you rot too
Get some help Stroodle Boy, you sick and you wyling
That stress it be piling
Progress checks they filing
Have a panic attack, overdose in the same day
Boy, check my knuckles we don't hurt the same way
Find me on the couch, passed out, way too depressed
Let the cops find the scene, see if they is distressed
Take a close listen, you can tell we all got problems
Squan and I is posted up, I'm chilling with some goblins
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
I'm stuck in an endless cycle
All the repetition still don't ring a bell
Hah
Hah
Free me from this hell that I dwell in 24/7
Even when I wake up the nightmare still go on
But not even that
My dreams are stuck in the past
Leaving nothing but an empty shell of my ambition
My will it can't find a handhold to climb out of my mind
And see the sunlight
Uh
It seems eager to exert itself on others
But on me it shows it's true colors
Discipline is a foreign word
And every morning the worm is stolen by the early bird
Maybe I deserve it, but I find it absurd that I'm the lord
I'm the lord of a frozen hellscape
But what kind of flex is that
When anxiety attacks
Oftentimes
Oftentimes
I don't even want to fight back
Feeling like shit is addicting and I don't want to relapse
Yeah
Ain't that the same shit
Worried I ain't fitting, huh
Ain't that the same shit
Got a shotgun to my head, boy I'm clutching
Say I'm too extreme, boy you ain't seen nothing
Got my sanity creeping out the deepest trench
Will it make to the top
Well it's anybody's guess
That shit battered and bruised
Mental crazy confused
Got the reaper reaching out his hand, it's hard to refuse
Sticking with the music, reasons got more then a few
Never see me flexing cause therapy cost more then the gold do
What you finna do
Talking more than you got to
Test the boy we going down together, boy you rot too
Get some help Stroodle Boy, you sick and you wyling
That stress it be piling
Progress checks they filing
Have a panic attack, overdose in the same day
Boy, check my knuckles we don't hurt the same way
Find me on the couch, passed out, way too depressed
Let the cops find the scene, see if they is distressed
Take a close listen, you can tell we all got problems
Squan and I is posted up, I'm chilling with some goblins
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
Hah
Hah
Free me from myself
I'm stuck in an endless cycle
All the repetition still don't ring a bell
Hah
Hah
Free me from this hell that I dwell in 24/7
Even when I wake up the nightmare still go on
But not even that
My dreams are stuck in the past
Leaving nothing but an empty shell of my ambition
My will it can't find a handhold to climb out of my mind
And see the sunlight
Uh
It seems eager to exert itself on others
But on me it shows it's true colors
Discipline is a foreign word
And every morning the worm is stolen by the early bird
Maybe I deserve it, but I find it absurd that I'm the lord
I'm the lord of a frozen hellscape
But what kind of flex is that
When anxiety attacks
Oftentimes
Oftentimes
I don't even want to fight back
Feeling like shit is addicting and I don't want to relapse
Yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Steven Dalton
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