laying sore in my bed 
theres a war in my head
its a chore till my death 
back to core when i end 

scared of life scared of death might as well get some bread while im frying my dome

and they know how it goes
how i come then im ghost 
its cold hibernate on my own 
wolf behind play wearing clothes 
not ashamed how ive grown 
went off the pavement of road
for the placement of clones 
bled on the thorns for the rose 
hateful then playful with bros
grateful my my scope made some gross 
throughout the growth that i chose 
give up the dope then i mope

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