Portland St.

Never gave a f*ck until you crossed the fucking line I hope these faggots fucking die, middle finger to the sky Grip the dirty 9, I'm the Devil in disguise I'm that motherfucker always loaded, junkie always pistol toting Rob a fucker for the profits, spit in faces, bring the ruckus Chevy steady swerving, motherfucker I'ma die on purpose Sipping on that purple potion, stealer with the sealer I don't f*ck with squealers neither bitch, you fucking with a killer, oh Ran up on 'em like the Terror Squad I swear to God my lungs are itching from the piff I'm smoking Crumbling like I'm fucking tungsten Lips are stinging, ears are ringing, stomach growing fucking fungus Summon something bloodless from the mists of the fucking dungeon Wishing me well but I'm hopeless, ghosting problems like it's fucking nothing To my recollection you love me, honestly I think you're fucking fronting You hate me and I fucking know it Relapsed twice now I'm back at it Don't give f*ck 'bout bad habits, still cut my wrists and I fucking like it East side, city lights Portland Street is where I died Mac on my lap, sit back and relax When the horsemen ride, I don't never look back 'Cus the PTSD got a grip around me S-U-I-C-I-D-E-I-L-E-T-O-R-I-P Cut Throat, Cut Throat please save me What the f*ck you mean, when I can't save me? Heron destined to the grave I'ma living zombie Walking, talking, barely breathing Frothy, floppy, bitch I'm fiending