Diego West:
Voice's run through my head
Telling me to drop dead
White flag to this mission
People don't even listen
That I grew up in the rich gutters, with no brothers
But my mental connection is a poor mother f**er
Who buffers about not having a lover
Cushion to blow, but I never had comfort
Just to stay with this constant hate
I'm more stuck up than a constipate
Is there a way I can just wipe away
With this verbal sodomy I had to take
That's the issue, Tore my brain tissue
Got my a** cleaned from those pills
Life screwed me to bits when I wen't nuts
It's too bad I didn't know the drill