[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