(Verse 1, Red.)

I got a bunch of bad habits
Like a pastor, slapping records like a soldier
Ran from iran back just to hide lives from the IS
And i’m pretty sure it’s been that same way since way back since my absence
When my mind tipping and dripping off the smack‘s sense
Sky rippling the feelings of my defence
Grind tighter and confined harder than a prison cell
If you still fucking with me then feel free to embrace the spell
Like i wanna be anybody just but myself
Like i wanna kill my pride gained from the past self
Like i wanna be the guy to kill oneself
Strike nirvana i gotta reach out for one’s health

(Hook, Red.)

I got these bitches shaking like they just be tryna feel me or something
I’ll cop my own shit just to rep in my city or something
Disease busy be eating her fucking kidneys or something
I swear i feel like these bitches out to kill me or something

(Outro, Red.)

Not a soul
Who’s left
Traced the call
You’re dead