I hit the dope two time, take the stress off my mind
I hit the coast and I ride, comin quick on your side
Im like a ghost half the time, Im just creepin behind
Im never slow, I follow, take your soul, you hollow
Bass kickin like your bitch, kidnap her for kicks
Come 6, poppin sticks, while she biting my lip
Dont flip, dont dip, better not move too quick
I take that grip right off your hip and smack yo ass with the clip
Hollow tip spit like a blue-nose pit
Hold my shit, Ima fuck your bitch
Bump Three-6 while I cut my wrist
Funk my kicks, then I break the rim
When I dunk that shit, bloodstain the Timb
No shit, got razor blades in my fist, taking lists
Only time I put the blade down
When I gotta pick up my pen
Fuck your Benz, Ima paint the Cadillac black
Cant see me in the night with the lights off 
Quicksand on the white walls
Living life on the edge, bitch, I might fall 
Dont give a fuck what they say about me 
Peep wont rest till I rest in peace
S on my chest when I come up on the beat
Full moon flex while you motherfuckers sleep
Make my will while I take my pills
Give your bitch chills when I make my bills
If I get killed, I know Ima die real
Stay real still, you already know the deal
You already know the deal
Lil Peep poppin Henny bottles, fuck a seal
I love the way it feel so I do it for the thrill
Say she wanna chill, bitch I know the fucking deal
Young shady motherfucker, really scary when I’m comin
If you hear me get running, when you see me, get low
Cant see the profit, no bands in my pockets
So Im skunkin up and gettin back on my flow
White trash boys, just some white trash boys
Flipping up the middle finger to these motherfuckin hoes
I aint talking bout the women, nah, Im talking bout these bitches
That be pushin all your music and they sell that flow
I never gave a fuck about a deal
So I aint ever fucking with them, man, thats how it is
All these internet bitches hoppin on my dick
Life turning into shit, Im finna slit my wrists
Spittin a miss and flickin my wrist to these bitch boys
All I ever hear you do is talk shit, boy
I hear you rap about the trap but it aint shit, boy
Ho, I been on my fucking grind and aint got shit for it
What the fuck, bitch? Rhyming aint gon cut it, bitch
You got no creativity, you aint no artist, bitch
You aint a thug, you aint a G, you aint the hardest, bitch
You just a pussy-ass motherfucker starting shit
I spark a blunt, blow the smoke to the fucking breeze
Thinking How the fuck I get out of these fucking trees?
Climbing up to the top, to the fucking leaves
I cant even fucking see whats underneath
Too high, too much, so alive, but I’m done
Smokin nothing but dust and its all I ever loved
I don’t wanna hear about it now
All I ever wanna see are clouds
Too high, too much, so alive, but I’m done
Smokin nothing but dust and it’s all I ever loved
I don’t wanna hear about it now
All I ever wanna see are clouds