If You Were to Get What You Deserve, You Would Know What the Bottom of a Tire Tastes Like Songtext
von $uicideboy$

(I just can′t seem to get my feet on the ground)
(Murder, murder, mur- murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder, mur- murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder, mur- murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder on me mind)

Still depressed, still misunderstood
Still popping pills, popping seals, smoking Backwoods
Still smoke a Swisher if you got it with you
Everybody want me sober, but I'm not a quitter
I say the less you know the better, that West Bank fire-setter
$uicide dream team, it′s that codeine fiend
Hellbound what I'm deemed, surrounded by crime scenes
Only peace that I know is sleep or to be deceased, shit

I can't call it anymore
Get more depressed when I′m on tour
Wake up in the middle of a war
Wake up wishin′ that I was a fucking corpse, fuck


(I just can't seem to get my feet on the ground)
(Murder, murder, mur- murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder, mur- murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder, mur- murder on me mind)
(Murder, murder on me mind)

Yeah, now if we got a problem, then we got a problem
I don′t give a fuck, I can't even see that far at the bottom
My cousin toxic, and I′m rotten
This ain't an option, I was opting out responsibility
Turn a new leaf and get it poppin′, yuh

Pull up on they fucking ass, all they do is fuckin' ask
"Can I flash you with the gas?"
And so I pull up on they ass, then I ask
"Want to catch the gat's blast?"
It′s always back to back
($uicide, $uicide)
Used to calm my depression ($uicide), used to call it my progression ($uicide)
Used to make me less upset and-
($uicide, $uicide)
Now causes all my depression ($uicide, $uicide)