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If You Were to Get What You Deserve, You Would Know What the Bottom of a Tire Tastes Like

If You Were to Get What You Deserve, You Would Know What the Bottom of a Tire Tastes Like

$uicideboy$

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Paris

Now the Moon's Rising

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Still depressed, still misunderstood Still popping pills, popping seals, smoking Backwoods Still smoke a Swisher if you got it with you Everybody want me sober, but I'm not a quitter I say the less you know, the better, that west bank fire setter $uicide dream team, it's that codeine fiend Hell bound is what I'm deemed, surrounded by crime scenes Only peace that I know is sleep or be deceased, shit I can't call it anymore Get more depressed when I'm on tour Wake up in the middle of a war Wake up wishing that I was a fucking corpse, fuck Yeah, now if we got a problem then we got a problem I don't give a fuck, I can't even see that far at the bottom My cousin toxic and I'm rotten, this ain't an option I was opting out responsibility, turn a new leave and get it popping Pull up on their fucking ass, all they do is fucking ask "Can I flash you with the gas?" And so I pull up on their ass then I ask "Want to catch the gat's blast?" It's always back to back ($uicide, $uicide, $uiciiiide) Used to calm my depression, used to call it my progression Used to make me less upset and ($uicide, $uicide, $uiciiiide) Now causes all my depression
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