I'm Sick

I'm sick I'm sick crippled body empty clips

Riding solo day to day don't need advice from any bitch

Let go what you can't control feds out on the dope patrol

What if I sold my soul where would the atoms go

Sick of the blatant nepotism

Approaching with caution and skepticism

That's a nice trophy your parents bought

Got a rope for my throat and my larynx pop

I don't got family to do the networking

No competition my moves self-serving

You're the type of person that would care bout awards