The last Thing

Compton Chauncey
more and more against the floor touching your face once more i scored the same styled insane wracking my brain to fuck with the lame game you play to see my hate flood the gates overtake the saints turning them to pillars of fire in my wake i cant create the sinners fate but oh just wait im taking a break to taste the place of my debates were all out of shape not believing the paint strewn on your face a mask to hide your struggles inside how will i die? probably high, shamed and denied, but FUCK you i wont lie to try to scry a piece of pie that wont be sliced to the right type of shite planning my blight. getting the fright of night aint shit on what i carry in my hand of might. Its Your demise slipping by the last thing youll ever see is my eyes.