don't diss, miss me , I'm killing it how many dead Bodies before the government finally hear shit talking bout politics, Nope, I'm just a teen closet to me understanding, is how cartoons are a happy place got jeans but they mama type and all of my peers rock skinny, had my mama buy it and now I'm cool with the gang, but still the same old me insecure bout these, fucking odd body shit! and I ain't really like the out doors shut behind my back, mama said get out go to school, meet up, and do what they all do yeah i did that, but still the same old me inside, behind the blinds, if they staring hide, no don't think about it, why you paranoid is you smoking pot?, then where the smell from? we got neighbors bitch!, these anxieties creeping through my bed sheets and i can hear em through my thoughts questioning every actions, so i fucking locked my past hiden behind the reflections of the blue tinted windows glass, shattered cause i fucking punched a mirror pass, a bottle as i said, to the label fucking sell my dreams for a couple mill too Ill