By Arcassin Burnham
Strictly sick of talking,
Will tears come to your eyes,
Don't want my funeral filled with fakes,
Impacting the days of my life,
Black hoodies make it seem like I'm a bad influence,
In swear death keeps calling me and hanging up,
Like trying to piss on me with no fluid,
I wonder how it would be looking above.
Strictly sick of talking,
Will tears come to your eyes,
Don't want my funeral filled with fakes,
Impacting the days of my life,
Black hoodies make it seem like I'm a bad influence,
In swear death keeps calling me and hanging up,
Like trying to piss on me with no fluid,
I wonder how it would be looking above.
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