Istasha Unnecessary Sounds From The Concrete Kiddo
[Verse]
Still sick of suffering fame
Contracting loss of focus
With habits stuck in new game plus
I wish I woke up
Make a promise in a vague state, this ain't the same face
And I've still been a passive pest, I have that patience
The drip and flooding nothings, we wish for pack of locusts
And empty by the cellphone line, double the dosage
Your falsified approaches switch flight at the concave
Imprinted on the backbone brain split up and open
[?] stole my phone [?] gone
With all the lights out [?]
[?] stole my phone [?] gone
With all the lights out [?]