Автор: Mr. Strange

I should’ve been dead like 17 times It seems like it I got a lump in my throat and a

Sitting in this comfort inn Man workings got me fucked up Slow down Swear to god I’m ’bout to Lose

I’ma ghost I don’t care what you doin’ now Don’t care what you doin’ It’s been a couple years without

I’m a ghost, ghost, ghost… Okay its time to silence all the nay says What they say will never phase

I’m a ghost… I’m sick of feeling like shit Sick of feeling like this Had some positivity inside of me,

I swear every day is something different Death and helplessness feeling so empty I trade my what if for others

Lost inside my thoughts I just might hit the fucking bottom Ain’t got hope left in my heart I just

Help me, my brother’s dead! What’s your name? Nicki What do you mean by your brother’s dead? He killed himself!

You ran up on him in the middle of the night Three shots off top then you vanish out of

Put that 38 to the face Pull it, you ain’t shit bitch Thought you were my blood Never will be