DRMLND - We lyrics

[Intro: BTK] Doin' it till my f**in' lungs shut down.. Which is probably about to be real f**in' soon.. God I need a cigarette.. I think cigarettes the last thing I want for this song [Verse 1:] Busy tryna keep track With all the females I'm itching with the disease of a game Playin' with the same kind of details Still wonder how many beats he sell How many streets he sweep with all that heat He keeps wrote on the sheet Keeps it cold as f** when he speak Delete that sh** and rewrite if it don't creep and leap Up on a beat, back up off the mat If you stack that whack, my life Is playin' games, writin' songs Slayin' gays, bitin' thongs No motha f**a's finna tell me This ain't where I belong Pa** out from exhaustion, stare at the walls Got a problem but can't ever seem to find the cause Feel like I'm 'bout to fall Pick me up, pickin' it up, pickin' it up Metals in the clip, stick em up for the bucks, f** Run out of money, but don't run out of luck The pain just to maintain the trust to bust Ain't it funny how you try so hard to get straight Leave the d** and the cups and the games Don't you think, sh** gon' benefit me? At least a week? Write depression in the beats Just to read it and wheep Can't believe half the sh**, I see in this Overwhelming situation I'ma leave this b**h, plead the fifth I drank just to feed the trip, believe me He crazy, when he tease the grip Almost like I'm losing track, losing faces Fall back from a few, cause I'm losing patience Feel I'm a patient with a mental state of this anxiousness Come clean, plate is tainted with A couple mistakes I made, when I played with tricks Ain't no motha f**er here, finna get a second chance Either take it or leave Just get even in advance I'm just tired of the jokes Finna cope with dirty bands WOO!