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Windows down with a frown, ash on my jeans
Been up eatin' beans
These scenes keep on flashin' inside of my head
But I'd rather be dead
Got no bread, outta meds, I can't find no tranquility
Put me outta my misery, insomnia drivin' me mental
So I put on a front like golds on my dental, my life's accidental
At the drop of a pencil, I might flash out and shoot every motherfucker while I'm drivin' a rental
Oh no, don't tempt me, I ain't slept in six weeks
Haven't ate since Wednesday
Goddamn, I'm empty

I fall asleep, but I don't want to rise out of bed
Escape to my dreams, I hope some of them wet
The sun shinin' bright as I open my eyes
And then close up the blinds, and wish that I was dead
Some people wanna call me a pussy
Some people wanna call me a bitch
Some people wanna tell me that it ain't that bad
"Lift up that chin"
I wonder what they'd say after I slice my wrists
Two slits, I'm gone in the endless abyss
One way street, and I need a fucking lift
If sleep is the cousin of death, I guess me and $lick countin' sheep 'til we outta breath, I mean, shit!
Pour, pourin' my emotions in a styrofoam cup
Gulping it down 'till I don't give a fuck

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Compuesta por: Aristos Petrou / Scott Arceneaux Jr.. ¿Los datos están equivocados? Avísanos.


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