Untitled Song

• Written by 

im a fucking syco analist
a battle catalist ,a war stradegist,
when i clench my fucking fist,
you then get the gist,
of which my subreabral consist,
if they knew what i was thinking they would then insist,
to make thinking strictly illegal,
thoughts are caught and some are missed,
like clouds of smoke and mist,
you dissapear after you been dissed,
like your sis ,you got a pussy and a clit,
a pair of tits,
wear the high heels if the shit fits,
the knife my hand holds ,controls n grips,
leaves you with neck slits,
the skin and flesh seperates n splits,
blood drips n spits,
blue and red beams has the road lit,
this dirty life full of grime and gritt,
deep in the fucking shit,
running trying to get the hell out of it,
i survive, only reason im still alive,
is coz ive been found fit,

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About the Artist

Jodes
Member since April 1 2016

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