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women are more dangerous than shotguns - unnamed lyrics

the only thing that’s stopping me from hopping off a f*cking cliff
is f*cking b*tches, wig splitting, spitting sh*t, and sparking spliffs
play that instrumental, b*tch, i know you like that f*cking riff
i’m f*cking up your f*cking sh*t before i empty out my clip
looking back at when i slacked, and acted sh*tty towards my mum
looking back at wearing black, and living in a f*cking slum
never toting up a gun, not a blade that’s on my thumb
it’s on my wrist, the slits and sh*t, spilling blood to feel so numb
it’s hard to see my own reflection
am i the only one that’s stressing
or living with this sh*t depression?
but look at how that boy’s progressing
hoes be coming up confessing
saying vestra just be s*xy blessing
and to the hoes that ain’t got time
it’s time to teach you c*nt’s a lesson
b*tch

- unnamed lyrics

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