Headickshit and crash verse 1- pewol
Every day I wake up, with this fucking headick.
I believe in science but dont trust no fucking medic.
I dont get shit for what I do, so whats the point of rolling credit.
With the finger on the trigger, you stay steady, but unleash the demond
and you run amok like philip and fredrick.
Im an addict, a onelife fucking hiter,
called the madmic, a oneline fucking spiter.
Its kind of like the cheapsmack, running trough your vain,
speed it up with hydro, to smoke your favourite strain.
Enyojing the last seconds with this gun to my head, now Im sex feet under,
and my words will never reach the dead..
Andra versen kommer i veckan, lr nått:P
BARA ORD DUVET!
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