[YUNG CHRIST]
Thirty golds up in my mouth, but they don't fit my teeth no more
Nose ring up in my snout, guess I ain't too street no more
All you rap about is death, everything is so depressed
How you gonna get some press? How you gonna come up next?
But I could give a fuck about a check
I'd rather go and cut my neck
Put a bullet up in my vest, put a knife up in my chest
And do some drugs, let people gossip
Under my tongue, yeah, that's suboxone
Oxycontin, bitch, I'm toxic
Dirty cracker, bitch, I'm rotten
Top to bottom, $uicide, G, to the 5, to the 9
Yung Christ, $lick $loth
Rising out that slime, killers with minds, lo-fi Columbine
Kill them all with time, kill them all with time
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[JAMES $PLEEN]
Too fire to hit the blunt, might pack it up and head out the front
Sayonara sucker
This ain't a gun to my head—it's a brain hugger
Painting the ceiling with little pieces
Killing myself, I don't really need a reason
Death is the reason that I'm breathing
Yeah, I'm beating my heart, but my heart doesn't stop beating
Guess I'm the dead motherfucker
Call me James $pleen, I'm that dead motherfucker
Dead pimp, pimping dead ass hoes
Tangled clothes, rotten ass bodies at my show
Close the door and throw me in the hole, here come the crows
Overdose on overly overcast skies, this is my goodbye side
$uicide ridin' with the tubes tied
You might think I'm shy
But I just really don't wanna fucking meet you
Kill yo'self