Destruction
Sunil Rajan
I'm cold these hoes emotionless
I played with fire and I burnt my hand with a bipolar bitch
We moved too fast and you was motion sick
Take some Motrin bitch
I'm too old for this
I'm on my sober tip
I punch the bag until it broke my wrist
Everything I touch it goes to piss
A change of heart from when I wrote this shit
I'm crossing hoes just like a grocery list
Alcohol classes drowning in glasses
They said life is death and taxes
I'd rather think that it's molasses
It move slow
But patience worth the practice
I wrote letters to god
I mailed my heart on my sleeve jus to tell you I'm gone