My smile is forced My style is warped Morale is corpse Now that my really good pound is torch Im just gone with the wind and Im home with the gin To the dome when I spin Im a zone cause the phone must be roamin again Another tone Im alone now dont want me to spin Time with Im just mind this Might find miss nine missed I find my mind in this line dish Dine quick not even a second for mindless IN A MIDDLE OF A TIME WHEN THE MUSICS FLYIN IVE DEPLETED MY KINDNESS Low like the grasses, low like po folks on grass shit Im so below the casket, ragged pulse up the maggots Why do I feel this illness, Im lookin for somethin to come and kill this a little bit
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 23:45:10 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015