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