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In Honor of Spooky Season
Depth Strida
,
Istasha
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Serrate that cunt with your blade
Running like a semi but you radiate primadonna
Slit like your wrist but you still make
Shit, with a at you wanna get a run up
Do not wanna miss, when the hit's transmission
Depend on your reason you missing the pieces
Stuck in your prison no shit
I can't keep waking the
Standing leaving nothing but a dark abyss
Where shapes go missing
Disconnecting fuckboy statement distance
Screams and shivers keep resisting
Never take a part in what I can't see, I speak
Deep roots
Side dimension, crashing past I ride increase
Don't please be
Far from my intentions
Bodies on the porch, gone
Crash it's crimson dark
It's my only sport I regard it as resolved
That's what you get for talking shit
Get a body clip
Mercenaries is the best, I pop your head like it's a cyst
Strida killing demons spooky season I'm
Awake and you be sleeping
This dimension is out of place
It's a pit of fucking snakes
Line 'em up like cases, fine approach just like it's Columbine
Never take another shot, no bitches on my epitaph
Sick in abyss, I'm chasing a bullet, no fuck this in your way
Like I shift controls your brain part of pain
All this time I reach empty pockets, I breathe it raw and toxic
Consequential, over the spine and reeking of disembodied
Part of body solvent, missing, reaching for nautical fucking-
Feel like crying, feel like dying, why the fuck is death inspiring?
Hold it go wrong,fucking strong
Well I guess I'm not the best, so I tie a knot, bitch
Shake me from the top left, all the fucking
Reason to my mind
Can betray to live this life, still I can't see a
Reason to survive it
Fuck, got this shit I'm out
I don't need you with your doubts, it's my fault
Talking about dying, you're all talking about clout
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