deep down i know it was i that should have died
regretting the missed calls
just thinking i'll call tommorow
that you would see another day
dial digits linked to you
and say i love and i miss you
fuck everyone back home that knew what i did
don't say you care about him
when i see you it's butcher knives
like i'm fresh out the kitchen
i promise i ain't leave the premises till i'm finished
i'll spit on the corpses of you bitches
blunts got me tight roped
no backspace i make sure no typos
shut your block down then lift you up like high notes
realistically i probably wouldn't even drop these
i don't know what to tell you