Six-up, five-oh, pigs come, I cop n’ go. The blotter shows they got me on the rocks like Galapagos. Good luck finding critters creepy as me. They shoulda fried me, I’ll give ya PTSD Vodka shots droppin’ down the throat they been stompin’ on. Cockin’ guns, lockin’ up, the quotas all for shock n’ awe. Drivin’s tirin’, and I been hot-wirin’ to make my get away from the jailbreak riot and Cellmates scrapin’ upon the bricks in the basement, tryin’ to escape this probation generation- too late! Crazy ****ers’ gotta do the time. Committed to the mental ward, committing all the crimes. I’m alive and kickin’ till the split ends fray. Maybe plead insane, guilty, but I’m not to blame! I’m a slave to the main vein, sprayin’ on the mainframe. Suffering the infrastructure, hoping I can maintain! Oh how I know how I go how I go. Ask me a question the answer I know.

When my hair dye fades out it’s gonna be just bleached hair, so when school starts up again I’m gonna fully dye my hair hot pink or neon green to piss off the teachers