She gotta check her pulse and tell herself that she okay, It seem like dying young is an honor but who’d be at my funeral? I wonder.
I go out, and all they eyes on me! I show out, do you like what you see? And now they closin’ in on me, ¡Let ‘em sharpen all they teeth!
This is more than I can handle… Blood in my Lambo’.
Wish I could go, I’m losin’ ho-ope…
I light a candle, some Palo Santo for all these demons, wish I could just go on.