Might smell the money on the breath

Grey suits sullying the flesh

I scripted the next three seasons of your life and they ain't ending well

There ain't the faint and distant ringing of a wedding bell

Stuck under the covers of your butters double bed in hell

Staring at the ceiling screaming FML

Yeah, they might smell the money on the breath or not

Grey suits sullying the flesh

But this is that kid with the frostbitten face that learnt to get wasted from studying the best

See, my brain expand in a space

Swelling with intangible weight

The style's in the beats, child, used tin of meat, I'll trample your face

Whole city full of actors, all working behind the scenes

I saw Costumes stitch your ear to ear smile on

Stroll on set like benign machines

Ey, wagwan bonsoir monsieur

Wrong street wrong yard wrong door

In Bangkok backing that Yardong raw

I've written the next few chapters of your life, it ain't an easy read

Splashed the next drop of acid in my G&T

See your demons dripping out your nostrils when you speak to me

Horses heads in every bed up in my B&B

In the days when I used to blaze haze, get wrecked and sit about

Drunk and with a major malfunction, I had yet to figure out

Pigging out, Pound Pizza and a litre of coke, for the E&J

I pledged to stay never less than a few feet away from the edge

Straight into Gregg's next door, eyes red-raw

What you wanna fuck about and pay your rent for?

Never said more than that, call me back when you've got the answer

Chong a cancer stick, sick to the stomach of the shit

But he wouldn't quit, quick, slip

Give yourself lip then dip

Fuck hangin' abandon ship

Take a trip to the dark side on a one-way ticket

Shit to do, it's been a long-day, jib it

I think I'm through with it, me new gimmick;

Start some shit and leave the print of me boot in it

Lose spirit in an instance, sanity sauntering off, nothing more than a dot in the distance

Ponder existence, then kill it off, till the whole game's written off

Pick the lock then pick em off

Only think to stop to piss and cough

Even then I keep firing, how can you be this sweg it seems tiring?

Easy, I just wake up and I be me

While ET's tryna phone home using Whatsapp with no 3G

I scripted the next three seasons of your life and it ain't ending well

There ain't the faint and distant ringing of a wedding bell

Stuck under the covers of your butters double bed in hell

Staring at the ceiling screaming FML