 Growing up afraid of heights, but the hills pretty. I'm trying to make rent. All this dread my brain got, trying to make sense. The secrets in the brain fog, I see a day yet. And don't niggas do time for a statement. Affiliated with the mob, not JPEG. I swear the city got a smog, you can taste that. But always filling up a log, keep me patient. My blood straining out the gauze, but the ache left. Plus I thought moving with my heart would make him hate less.