bitch you got me goin crazy,
i would rather sit around and smoke a blunt,
then sit here thinkin about you.
i sometimes sit here and think,
is drugs the only way to forget about you,
or is there another way.
my mom says to move on,
my sister says suicide,
but my mind says drugs.
so now i am sitting here smokin a blunt,
a razor blade in my hand,
hoping that this will help me move on.
i am shaking so hard that i cut to deep,
i laugh as i see the crimson blood going down the drain.
suicide,
i finally found the answer.