Louis Vuitton Prosthetics (Instrumental Version)

Cutting ya digits, them Louis Vuitton Prosthetics Then I end it, I end it Sadness building up like Tetris You cannot comprehend Yeah your brain will not get this Slaying and ripping at the seams My brother count your blessings Gripping that Smith and Wesson to my head It's depressing Put a smile on my face But I'm sick and tired of pretending Keep that grin Play the extrovert and make some good impressions I've been sad for a while Guess that this is my confession Back seat Fucked up Drink in my cup Green with that Cognac Smoking a dub Noided like the pigs are right behind me Nobody can understand The evil that's inside me I take a moment to recollect By staring out the window I feel like I'm a mile high With no floor below Why do we drink smoke and party til we're broke (Say say) Stay woke while we toke May as well be sniffing coke I feel like I am Cause I'm tweaking scratching at my skin Deep down I sin Cause I wanna feel again Cause I've been numb to everything Call me Lidocaine Emotional rolling on a coaster Take this dopey to my brain I've been sad for a bit Not a feeling I would feign They say it's a facade I'm playing it up for the fame But faggot if you had my brain You'd snap and go insane I might do the same Feel no pain And put some copper through my brain Cutting ya digits, them Louis Vuitton Prosthetics Then I end it, I end it Sadness building up like Tetris You cannot comprehend Yeah your brain will not get this Slaying and ripping at the seams My brother count your blessings Gripping that Smith and Wesson to my head It's depressing Put a smile on my face But I'm sick and tired of pretending Keep that grin Play the extrovert and make some good impressions I've been sad for a while Guess that this is my confession I don't wanna feel no pain I don't wanna feel no pain I don't wanna feel no pain I don't wanna feel no pain Put a bullet in my brain It's sad Truly it's sad How I make up for the blues And aim for a life I'll never have Shoot for the top from rock bottom Took a wrong turn Shots to the back Don't know where I got them Under the influence Sub par Not good enough Mediocre Self loather Ain't no diamond in the rough Crack under pressure Looking like I'm blowing glass So little going on That's why I'm peeping that ass 300th in the race Call me Michael Fass An air bender with the mic Now the fire nation gonna tack Y'all can't keep up Just asthmatic cats with no bars Spitting lava hyperbolic rhymes with SARS Cutting ya digits, them Louis Vuitton Prosthetics Then I end it, I end it Sadness building up like Tetris You cannot comprehend Yeah your brain will not get this Slaying and ripping at the seams My brother count your blessings Gripping that Smith and Wesson to my head It's depressing Put a smile on my face But I'm sick and tired of pretending Keep that grin Play the extrovert and make some good impressions I've been sad for a while Guess that this is my confession