I try to smile long, though she'd rather see me frown
Broken pieces of my heart, she left 'em on the ground
Was gonna pick em up, but instead I just leave a mess
And walk around with a big hole all up in my chest
Bless the Buddhist saint, got me feeling type at ease
I light my trees, choking, I'm smoking, trying to breathe
And if I come down, let my homie leave me dead
Got high off so much sh** I can't feel bullets in my neck
Stress, I'm talking crazy but truly this b**h amaze me
No one can save me except for this music that I've been making
Why do I feel alive doing sh** that make me dead?
Cause when you wear the crown they want bullet holes in your neck
Yes, no smoking ?? though, you can smell the aroma
The storm is over, I bet your b**hes be trynna poke us
I got these hoes running, they twisted up like a dread
I'm trynna wear the crown without bulletholes in my neck
Yup, I nod my dome while I plot up on the throne
I drop these poems, and I dog b**hes who trynna bone
Except this one ho, who would rather see me dead
It s**s when those who loves you want bulletholes in your neck
Listen, when I'm talking though, she'd rather be walking
I spark up, coughing, smoking some sh** that be tasting awesome
But this can't take the feeling that making me feel upset
I'm smoking, let this smoke leak through bulletholes in my neck
b**hes, eat the dick. Snitches, plead the fifth
I scheme for chips, smoking the green and she plead for dick
Tell me if I'm wrong, yo this make a lot of sense
Crown upon my head, I rest with bullets in my neck