[Verse 1: Playa Denai]
Don't be talking with a gun to your mouth
Don't be talking with a knife to your face
Coming back to tell me that I ain't so sad
I'mma butcher you to hell while I motherfucking wait
Please just tell me that I won't even make it
Someone tell me that I won't make it through
I've been chilling in my room staring blankly at the wall
Waiting for someone's call to come through
I've been getting really lonely as hell
And people say that I think a lot
But yet I act surprised when the people tell me that
And I don't feel good so I do
But if I fake, just tell me the difference
I don't even feel anything
I don't even feel anything
I don't even feel anything

[Interlude]
Burn it down
To the ground
B-burn it-

[Verse 2]
Walking home to a broken family
Full of slit wrists and dipshits who don't care for me
I could accidentally not make it home
And stow in an airplane, and make it to Stockholm
I get home and my father's drinking whiskey
Angrier every second and telling my mom 'bitch please'
I try to stand up and sit at the kitchen table
But he just sent me to bed after hitting me with a ladle
I sit there in bed with my phone
Bruises on my neck that will never be shown
I just might be gay, my parents must never know
Or they'll hit me with a belt and consider me disowned
[Outro]
Laying there and talking to my friend
He'll be there to help me until my untimely end
When I pop some cyanide and then get a sharp knife
Put it in my side, ending my damn li-
Oh, fuck, the beat's gone
Well, then