S.O.S

But I be long gone Chilling in a pond, eating fois gras Laughing at my problems, saying haha Imma son this shit called life I'm it's papa Let me pop off yuh Peter Popoff robbing men for hope but he got caught Red handed he left stranded the young bandit Ain't that much different from dumb mans shit When it comes to bands these niggas just run hands It's Getting more common than rape on Japan transit Seems like we're devolving into an ape man Feels like we're inside of the grip of Satan Fiend for Supreme and the Bape man They rolling up the weed getting baked like a cake pan I hate to say it, but I hate man We faker than all of the Kardashians They bitches getting greedier like la chienne What happened to the media we bashing No passion just clashing Niggas lashing out This shit is like a massive drought Us speakers in charge of the water spout Grab a mic let it rip and the flows spill out No x's wonder what the o's spell out All s's wonder what the world spell out Clear ears hear clear it's been crying for help SOS Feel the world beating inside every single chest Life is like a game so we playing it like chess But we got migraines and you bet it come from stress Yeah the pain is high so it's time that we de-ess SOS Life is what you make it imma make my life the best SOS