This is a song about "Anthony faulkner"

Not the average new yorker, i'm dramatical author,

I heard that loves forever my love gonna be much shorter

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

A struggling writer, who's can't be shit as a rhymer/

There's a shortage in ur dormant thoughts, u talk alot for a 'sick' writer

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

There’s a house on fuller street that they say he moved in

And her mind is amazing, different kind of connection

And when the game tests you a true writer plays

That's word to ksa i'm trying to make sunnier days

The mind of a writer is d sword fo fighter the feelings he never cry'd up caus he knows hes fighter

And ones desiresbe pulling all my cabbage like priorsstuck in the trance searching for something higher

Self-destruction's author, with the devil i take selfies.

That's why i get cut like i don't fuck with the coach knees