$UICIDEТОКМО

Clouds approach As I move through towns and quote Latin texts found under Rome Swarming storms, I’m forming horns I’m pouring Os in styrofoam Ignoring hoes, I might go home Torn in two, the guts get thrown Them blunts get blown, afford it on my own Spend-spend some money, now I’m broke I ain’t worried ’bout it though, I’ll get some later down the road Root of all that’s evil, I know Six-six-six times for my soul Slit my wrist, I’m sinking low Lit my list, I’m burning slow Wish for bliss, and turn to stone