Something makes me run from nothing,
Fucked up more than once and,
Cleanin’ off my slate before i run again
You couldn’t call me a saint, you’ll have to call me a sinner,
Comitting bigger, than 21 saying “winner winner chicken dinner,”
I can’t get civil, filled with evil, evil,
Travels in messages from owls and eagles,
No flowers so freedom, yeah,
I’ve done wrong, i’ve fucked up,
Can’t take it back but i gotta face it with my fucking hands up,
Her hate attack is tangible,
Gimme one good reason i shouldn’t walk on out that door
And count that cash that could be caught without your walk upon my chest,
I’m not, here
Not givin’ up some love is like a gun in my waistline,
Safety off, got nowhere to be so i make everything take time,
Everything remains fine, everyone runnin down their pre determined paths while i make my own, exploration around the world,
Flown, to another destination, another girl,
Never been that shiver down your little ass spine,
Always been that plane of kush and a glass from the best vine