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dropping a popped locket - web​(​s​)​linger كلمات الأغنية

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[intro]
i was floating on the sea like a cast end
i legit witnessed the begging of this illness
thick as cash spent and yes, i’ve loved
with a “d”, past tense
unwanted meaning in that last line, tell me where this gash ends
i said tell me where this gash ends
i said tell me where this gash ends

[verse 1]
i could have been her saving grace (i could have been her saving grace)
but she’s too good at saving face
and now there’s no saving me
her knees, they bleed from unanswered prayers
but while she gleams on her knees she finds an answer there. choke on this scythe like you choke on his d-ck
i said choke on this scythe like you choke on his d-ck
give me my monster? thank you
i’m prepared for the jail time, are you prepared to die?

[chorus]
if our sole purpose in life
was to completely ruin someone else
then we’ve both won
what doesn’t k!ll you, k!lls me
what doesn’t k!ll you, k!lls me
what doesn’t k!ll you, k!lls me (die, die, die my darling)
what doesn’t k!ll you, k!lls me (don’t utter a single word)

[verse 2]
look, look, lookout
i’m using the red pen, but where does her neck end?
been cut, cutting all night
no organs to borrow, her chest is hollow
but the skin’s all mine
replacement body parts and spite soaked tube socks
my heart is black and dead (rest in peace 2pac)
the pages too grim to be left black and white
but if i keep painting in red i’ll surely die
oh no, woah, she is me, woah f-ck

[chorus]
if our sole purpose in life
was to completely ruin someone else
then we’ve both won
what doesn’t k!ll you, k!lls me
what doesn’t k!ll you, k!lls me
what doesn’t k!ll you, k!lls me (die, die, die my darling)
what doesn’t k!ll you, k!lls me (don’t utter a single word)

[bridge]
dumb sk-nk in a dunk tank
drunk as a punk sank to the slums
thanks for the bum-life, the sun died
scrub another rubber no glove or nothing
loving the c-m and you fumbled the one
guys see a f-ck, her dumb eyes see a buck
but, i see a sl-t, she’s only shy with what’s not cut
free delivery on tuesdays, too shamed to used names
glue stains from priors in sight bright like
loose change run by her on fight night, right?
meet you in the backstreet, bye bye bye
leave you in a trash heap, night lights died
p-ssy b-tch, call her “miss fits”, die die die
like a d-ck with syphilis and cry, cry, cry
stick a bit of sickness in your “my, my, my.”
wax wings taxing fly sky high

- dropping a popped locket

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