Trippin
• Written by march420
Relaxin in the backyard
Hollywood boulevard
Gotta get a bodyguard
Or Im laid in a graveyard
10 grand in my left hand, straight hanged
Gotta joint in my right hand, nothing's jammed
Start to look for things
Get hobbies, blow money on things
You get these things
They're complicated things
Complex like feelings,
Easy like breathing
Start to use chemicals
Lose touch with all of the walls
Slowly get a new point of view
Pick up your balls
One, two, three, four
Just like that you're on your fours
Fuck this gotta write the chorus
Fresh mind, roam around the forest
People saying future's gonna bloom
But I'm stuck in the womb
Will I be back to normal?
Or is this an endless portal?
I feel like I'm going mental
Everything is detrimental
I'm just a problem causer
The people progression pauser
Shit happened a week ago but still
Only thoughts are about her
Still everyday I see her
But I still cannot forget her
Cause I think only bout her
Gotta get rid of this
Gonna go take a piss
Rid myself the pain of this
Just hope that I do not miss
Nearest knife, nearest gun
All it takes is one gun
Your head's against the gun
Tick, tack, cock, click, kaboom
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About the Artist
march420
Member since July 23 2015