Sold out shows, but I don't believe in souls
So I doubt these shows gonna leave me feeling whole
A couple blunts I blow and now I'm idolized, a role model
That'll get 'em to get me to model clothes
I'd rather snort up roxy's 'til that dope bottle rattles
Nope, I'm not about to tackle yet another problem
I'll have to put this one at the bottom
I feel like fucking Sodom and Gomorrah, but life is sweet
Another black petal falling down right at my fucking feet
Another flower rotten, a bouquet of efforts
Sour scents are haunting my defeat
Sold out funeral, no Livenation fee
Captivate a hundred thousand people, still me and the reaper meet
A hundred thousand want to meet you, hope they'll let me be
I'm able to paint a picture most people can't even see
Basquiat mixed with Monet when that heron in me
Self-critic that's speaking in cryptic, defying the laws of physics
Let me be specific, sadistic, Mr. Pessimistic
$'ickity $loth, the motherfucker they call the Anti-Christ
Used to dream of fans chanting, screaming that "$uicide"
Now I get on Instagram and they're posting my personal life
I promise it's not what it seems
Climb up just to fall down a stream
Drag me to the river
The richer I get, the worse my liver gets
No strippers on my zipper
Still in my room, keep it dark as I can
Remember scraping up change just for cigarettes
Immortalized $uicide, no, they won't forget
Written by: Aristos Petrou, Scott ArceneauxLyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Create your own version of your favorite music.
Sing now
