[Verse 1: Atwood]
My coffin's dripping blood
My coughing f**ed me up
Been coughing since the seventh grade
The problem isn't d**
I've had pneumonia twice
Walked by d**h as we locked eyes
Cracked my head in two
When I was one and I could feel inside
That d**h is nice
A cold embrace to say the least
I'll take that over no embrace any given day of the week
I cough up blood
Ruptured vessels, hocked up lungs
A constant piercing in my chest anytime that I fill them up
I think I'm dying
But I ain't giving up
I swear I'm trying momma, I just needa fix me up
But a, couple more shots will surely hit the spot
I'll end up like my pops
Soon enough until my liver rots
But pops ain't an alcoholic
He just got some problems
And if I die within the year just remember: I called it
[Outro X2]
My coffin's dripping blood
My coughing f**ed me up
Been coughing since the seventh grade...
The problem isn't d**
f**