Smack_19-11

here I go again I'm a trip out prob rip out the phone line from the wall screaming fuck y'all middle finger up as I'm running across the parking lot gotta hurry up and stash my 8 ball I'm gonna walk 10 miles on back roads all the home the whole way hiding from the drones taking batteries out of my phone jumping out the Bush's pushing myself to the cosmos but the skys the limit we do what we want y'all gotta ask geeves we been knowing this shit for a hot minute been doing us call me what u wanna say y'all don't wanna play we on the verge of going on a permanent purge killing y'all with them words had a psychic premonition and damnit if it wasn't wrong been dropping bombs all along I got it the bag ima bust a thousand we don't wanna beg we struggling stretching a penny as far as we can never been Mr moneybags, as long ways from thinking shits funny man It ain't a thing to get a little bloody and we dont mind being the ones that did ya In oh shit I think we might killed it like black and decker did drilled it took the long way around the damn building catch a little flak cause all we do is ignore ya not sorry for ur misfortune we got problems of our own lost in life but we like it in that zone it's where we most at home feeling uncomfortable love an awkward silence won't walk away we running towards the violence