Yeah, I’m a casualty of my own chemistry,
white lines on the dash like a prophecy,
ghost in the passenger keep talkin’ to me,
sayin’ “speed up, we ain’t got no honesty.”
Momma prayin’ loud but the beat too loud,
pain in the bass, can’t drown it out,
holes in my lungs match holes in the couch,
love left town, never left a note—ouch.
I pop blues like they Tic-Tacs, heart black,
still tweet peace signs, that’s a kick-back,
if I die tonight, stream my shit fast,
tell the world Lil MK left a gift-wrapped relapse.