Pieces

(Tearing out pieces, replace the broken pieces of
Tearing out pieces, replace the broken pieces of me
Tearing out pieces, replace the broken pieces of me
Tearing out pieces, replace the- place the-
place the- place the-)
Tearing out, tearing out pieces
Of me, to replace the broken broken pieces of you
Tearing out, tearing out pieces
Of me, to replace the broken broken pieces of you
Looking for a patch, but my pockets empty
I'm surprised by the fact that I'm living in my twenties
I promised i'd never rhyme 'bout my death because it's trendy
To kill yourself over some views, to pay up for your Venti
And dad's a little childish, my mom a little crazy
My bro I can't define him
Only my sister gets me
My girl will never fix me
It's in my own hands to posses myself and change the ending
So why am I resenting?
Given the opportunity to change, I spent it venting
About the sky, about god, about the people renting
Their own minds and souls to life, I lied about the colors
(This should be gray!)
The only thing worth the fucking mention
No I don't want attention
Somewhere, I do but it's an oxymore to this dimension
You got a taste of it, now there is no prevention
I'm either gone or not rapping no more, don't wanna rhyme no more
Tearing out, tearing out pieces
Of me, to replace the broken broken pieces of you
Tearing out, tearing out pieces
Of me, to replace the broken broken pieces of you
Automatic robot, a living clickbait
Blood fanatic murderer filled with hate
Brain so fried that drugs will never compensate for anything
Shoot me some serotonin if anything
Wooden crates as beds to watch the world deflate
Sometimes bad stuff is given in silver food plates
How can you go on when you wake? (you sleep)
How can you hold on when life doesn't give any cake? (you die)
When that sunlight pours on old walls, showing what they really are
With them words of poets gone with no, graffiti masking it
Yellow of decay makes me wanna bask in it
Timeless warmth so I sit there for a fast minute
I see a flicker of a flame in my wax wings
Cover my ears with my hands because the amp rings
But shit's alive so it grows, just like saplings
killing all the salt, so it goes like gat swings