| I used to give a fuck
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| A long time ago days were filled with juice
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| TV and Oreos, if you saw me then
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| You could never see who I am
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| I’m 100 years of torture with a bullet in this hand
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| You can see me now cause there ain’t nothing else left
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| My brain is a disaster zone, panic in my breath
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| Give me shelter now, I really need my rest
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| There ain’t nobody flyer than me
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| I say a couple words and you can hear the birds sink in the trees
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| The fetus and the earth glistens of reason
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| 'Til he listens to greed with age
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| He whistles and bleeds
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| I would shake your hand but my fingers are picking under the dust
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| Crumble paper bag, skin in the gust
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| But who can leave, society is digits and pus
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| We live in the us, before we’re crippled, picture of us
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| It’s sickening, God, dreams of dogs biting the dove
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| I forget the last time that I was living in love
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| I spend my nights drinking it down and living it up
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| And by the morning feel the sickness of a blistering cup
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| Wondering if I’ve been filling it up-up, hitting the ground
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| Like a thousand pounds lifted but we stitching it up-up
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| Until the next time I’m feeling limited with the bust
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| And hit the pillow like a bus till the bars cross
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| For a minute I forget that I was sucking the gun
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| There’s no fuss, but some of the time it’s all fuss
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| There was a time when I felt yeah, the utter presence of hell
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| Tugging at my coat of arms with the sensitive smell of smoke
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| Many’d croak where I should’ve fell
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| Falling in the well of fire, walking the desert of many marksmen
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| But I couldn’t find my canteen like Carmen cause karma is my last girlfriend
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| You can see me now cause there ain’t nothing else left
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| My brain is a disaster zone, panic in my breath
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| If you saw me then you could never see who I am
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| I’m 100 years of torture with the bullet in this hand
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| I’m supposed to tell you that I get laid every day
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| And stay undefeated but since I was a fetus
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| Working minimum wages that mind frame
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| Got these players rhyming in cages, living half life
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| Radiation’s stuck to the pages
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| I make records but I want nothing to do with history
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| The only time I’m feeling fine is in my inner sleep
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| The only time I’m seeing shine is in the reflection
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| So I-I Throw Stones at them, I throw sto-o-o-uh-uh
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| I throw stones at them, I throw stones |