Sxmpra, ISVVC — Cigarettes & Philosophy

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Creep up out the gate I got that duffel bag packed
Throw it in the trunk, get in the whip and never turn back
Bl-bl-black trench coat no longer hangin on the rack
Middle finger to the man, misanthropic they call me that
As I drive on down the road my hands be shakin’ with adrenaline
See some faces that I hate and I can’t wait to bury them
It runs deep, so deep, check the evidence
Ain’t nobody fuck with me so imma make it clear to them
Park the whip
As I get up out the bitch
I see a homie lightin up a cig and walkin’ to me kinda quick
He ask me why I miss philosophy scoffing
I tеll the obvious
That it don’t even mattеr
And he gotta dip
I see his face change feeling a little bit strange
But he don’t question so I’m guessing
He will be stayin’ unscathed
There be the double doors and nothin that stands in my way
So I walk on through em to the cafeteria to place my thangs

Time ticks by as I’m waiting for the fireworks
Excited and I’m frightened as I can begin to think the worst
Got my backup plan layin in the backseat
And imma wait just one more minute till I got everything
I take my gun and walk up in the building let it fuckin blast
Screams of terror ringing through the halls as everybody pass
When I get up in the cafeteria I shoot the bags
But ain’t a mother fuckin thang really goin to plan
So I gallop up the stairs and I walk up in the fuckin library
I hear the whispers and the sobbing sing harmoniously
Suffer, suffer as I squeeze that thang indiscriminately underneath all the tables I see the black rivers they leak
On the carpet, as the alarm just keep on blaring
I start to lose my self as my adrenaline is wearing
And all things I’ve done begin to really fuckin scare me
I put the gauge up to my head and-