[Verse 1: Ghostemane]
This the typa sh** that make ya head go bang
Bang bang to the wall poppin out veins
Break a thang but it'll Neva make the sh** same
Too much i dont give a sh** to really change things
Neva listen what another folk say
Less he got more money comin in than bill gates
Maybe then I can learn one or 2 things
But I'd rather take a psychedelic shroom then what got to say
Sick of havin nothin in my fridge but a thang of salad dressing and a little bit of moldy rye
Buddy told me eat a little bitta that sh**
I would trip like sh** said boy you a lie
No Wonder why I never trust a soul anymore
Neva turn my back like a corner in the fourth
Foth down and the goaline pa** to myself like I'm Brad J b**h f** everybody else
This is the type of sh** that lead to bangin yo head
Like my chick when she crackin the head of my bed
Is enough of it Neva enough for me spendin my time doing nothing but sh** that I dread
Never wanna wish upon another deity when I can wish upon me wit Never dealin with a priest
Watch that sh** you say your God ain't Savin you from sh**
Sortahuman!