everybody's tripping 25 ways of death and I'm still slipping never thought I can see the other side maybe someday someway I will make it out and won't die 100 percent on my grind I'm stacked up in my mind the barrel to my guy is always on time on time the additional information is like an invocation of immigration of the presidential station fuck the USA fuck America that's all I gotta say still slaying anit playing just delaying and betraying fucking this nation fuck this lame shit fuck your play shit fuck this same shit I don't wanna be thought of as a evil person this is my sub version but lately this is the only version that I can be immersed in light the fuel to this fire give me ketamine to get me higher the only thing I wanna feel is desire show me the way as I lay down to make my on bed I just wanna rest I just can't confess to stress only unless I clean up this mess best time out here making stacks of bread