suburban roulette
Crushed-up daffodil in my tea, cracked and spilled
And I keep half a million thoughts in atmosphere
The autopilot steerin', mottos tired, weary
"Goon, stay quiet!", fearin' doomed asylums
In the tomb, I'll smile
I don't live my truth
Because the good guy dies in all the childhood films
I watch through eyepatch lens
If you died right now, you didn't die back then
Death in all my rhymes, I write with tight-capped pen
And I forgot my lines, they lie in dry cement
I'm just a chalk outline that ain't been drawn on yet
It's been an awful time since I was spawned off ket
I need an IV drip, the loser doth protest
The room is not a mess
It's cleaner than the narrative, I'll eat all my asparagus
You love me yet? Do you love me yet?
If I write some crazy shit, I am I a hip-hop gem?
If I wasn't lazy, shit, they'd call me hip-hop's best
If I wasn't atheist, I'd pray to not exist
Trauma, brainwashed to think that god exist
Trauma, gave no consent to lots of men
Drama-laced problem chaser, wants attention
'Cause my brother wouldn't play with me when I was six
And we both been through shit
I know why the bitch despises me
But now that boy a cop with anger issues so I hide my weed
And I just copped a couple grams with swishers, flavor's tropical
Bitch, you ain't gotta listen, this whole simulation's optional
Empty-chambered when I put a gun to my head
Keep it down, I'm pretending to play russian roulette
And I keep half a million thoughts in atmosphere
The autopilot steerin', mottos tired, weary
"Goon, stay quiet!", fearin' doomed asylums
In the tomb, I'll smile
I don't live my truth
Because the good guy dies in all the childhood films
I watch through eyepatch lens
If you died right now, you didn't die back then
Death in all my rhymes, I write with tight-capped pen
And I forgot my lines, they lie in dry cement
I'm just a chalk outline that ain't been drawn on yet
It's been an awful time since I was spawned off ket
I need an IV drip, the loser doth protest
The room is not a mess
It's cleaner than the narrative, I'll eat all my asparagus
You love me yet? Do you love me yet?
If I write some crazy shit, I am I a hip-hop gem?
If I wasn't lazy, shit, they'd call me hip-hop's best
If I wasn't atheist, I'd pray to not exist
Trauma, brainwashed to think that god exist
Trauma, gave no consent to lots of men
Drama-laced problem chaser, wants attention
'Cause my brother wouldn't play with me when I was six
And we both been through shit
I know why the bitch despises me
But now that boy a cop with anger issues so I hide my weed
And I just copped a couple grams with swishers, flavor's tropical
Bitch, you ain't gotta listen, this whole simulation's optional
Empty-chambered when I put a gun to my head
Keep it down, I'm pretending to play russian roulette
Credits
Writer(s): Remy Kay
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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