Sometimes I love the fact that I’m my worst enemy. It saves me all the stress of being nice, like you pretend to be.
You’re no friend of me. You’re no enemy. You’re no blip on my radar. You’re a centipede.
Nowhere close to big enough to be detected. So now, I’ll seek respect in making your death my incentive.
I dream bigger now. I wait for no one. You want me to give you heart? I’m clueless. You got to show one.
Show me the finer things, that simply lying brings. Simple as fire seems to innocent infants.
Lost in this instant. Snuffed in this moment. Snorting my own blood. Heartbeat is homeless.
Hardly the homie, you thought you once knew, kid. Party and over drink to know me on my new shit.
You feel sick now? Good, now you’re getting close. You want to die now? Not yet? You’re getting colder.
I’m no tragedy waiting to happen. Trust me, I’m a tragedy lived, freebasing in traffic.
I’m down to take the whole city with me. If I cry then nobody lives to tell the story.
My nemesis, my reflection. Feel my pain and glory.