| Talk ya' ass off
|
| Can you back it up?
|
| Talk ya' ass off
|
| Can you back it up?
|
| Talk ya' ass off
|
| Can you back it up?
|
| Talk ya' ass off
|
| Can you back it up?
|
| Back up in the spot with a hole in my skull
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| Bitches all around me lining up just to fuck, so I
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| Light up a cig', pass me the rig
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| Been chasing this high since I was a lil' kid
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| Now I’m in and out of rehab, fuckin' bitches while we relapse
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| Run up on you with the ski mask
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| Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, stick 'em
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| Isolated, forsaken, these bitches still chasin'
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| Withdrawals got me achin' and shakin' and vacant
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| Lookin' like Satan
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| Pray to the Pagans to ride on some Daytons and feel so complacent
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| Fuck it, get faded, can’t take the temptation
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| I’m killing myself all alone in the basement
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| Talk ya' ass off
|
| Can you back it up?
|
| Talk ya' ass off
|
| I’m gonna pull—
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| I’m gonna pull the mask off of my face and only my skull will remain
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| Look in the fuckin' empty space that is my eyes
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| You’ll see the flames
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| Tryin' to step out of this fucking frame
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| Chemicals offered to numb the pain
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| Damaging certain parts of my brain
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| Damaging certain parts of a dame
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| I grab a brush and paint the rainbow until it’s covered up in grey
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| Until it’s covered up in grey
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| Stone globe, whole world decay
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| 'Til it’s covered up in grey
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| Stoned boy can’t relate to the problems of today
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| I’ve been explained, I claim these graves
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| I’ve been exposed, remain the stain
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| I gain new fame, increase my chains
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| These fuckboys slain, drain blood from veins |