Then sip on this remy til they turn me up some
Curing depression with my pen's special medicine.
When it come to pistols, these niggas don't john lynch them
You were more special than my paper and pen
That it's not fake, and tomorrow instead of drowning in my sorrows i gleam
Hostile with them hoes, i got a dollar in my pocket plus a dream
Them niggas lack bars like underground when their celly ring
Is just the beginning to our special evening
Cause they don't give a fuck about usbut when i start to rise
Of that one special person who would complete my life.
Designer shit, though i’m modest, astonishing to be honest
My mind is split, i cant go a day without stabbin my wrist
But today is the day.
And my niggas say
This is my story, this is how the cold day went
Roll the whole mountain, now i’m on the couch bent
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