me and my boy, we've been on the road, and i taste ash my sword, my tongue, no stars, no sympathy so mark my words, i will not be told how you feel i don't trust you any more than i trust my self
burn the day
these three things can't be held in two hands, but never mind all that ghost life, coast by, i'm on top of everything tonight gold dust turns to glue in your throat, so elegantly choke you beat this rap, but you'll still get it in the neck