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4ria - sø help me g0d lyrics

you’re so critical non+critic
vindictive
i’m not slipping
stick to flows, b+tch i deny quitting
d+d+dim lights dingy
like a chimney, i blow smoke
within me
dibble and dabble similes
i’m simply grim
like ren and stimpy
you’re a simpleton
similarly cynical
ive since convinced
every little single sicko when i sit and vent
about my trials and tribulations
i’m quick to spend
a minute or two refuting dudes
when i hit cement
r+render this event
too thick to bend
symbols so discontent
i live in dystopia
accompany opium
soon they’re covered
by phony associates
i’m still hoping this
opens thе door to coping with
slight changes
constricting my time
face this condition till linеs fade with
convictions ive tried taking
to limits till i’m im making a living
with high wages

am i not making myself clear?
i might need more help here
but either way
i think that i’m f+cked
the pinnacle of manic episodes
are really corrupt
till dusk
i must
still hush
till i cannot stay up

is there any point as to why i’m here?
so flushed
i clutch a grudge and smudge
my l+st to combust
f+f+filling in the void to defy fears
a feeling i tug, can’t trust
i’m stuck revealing my crutch

eye for an eye
i’m obliged to get by
with every line that i rhyme
it’s a ride till i die
like the fire in my eyes
i’m tired and tied up with your lies
all the fears stay alive forever
(here, here)
here we go again
hold my hopes up then
keep these flows up
like some clothes i fold up
you’re a d+ck head, bowl cut
stuck up
b+tch. i told ya, sh+ts a trip
i drove up to inflict
good amount of damage
to every f+ck talking sh+t
ive been heavy, lost in abyss
i will never opt to give in
r+rigid as a syringe
i’m riveting
lyrically b+tch i’m littering
syllables reconsidering miracles
through my spirit, original
s+spit wicked, so criminal
pivot this sick mix, literal
indifferent to b+tches
i feel the pull of a misfit
individually mastering flows
as i pass and indulge in the madness
m+mister imagination, stacking magic
practice patterns
slap a b+st+rd with my back hand
look who’s back and smooth as flatland
dudes have lagged and proved
their games are outdated like sega saturn
s+stick around a little, feel my purpose bloom
control is cultivated by my urge to prove
whenever i strike back
with a verse or two
within a stones throw
you motherf+ckers are doomed

am i not making myself clear?
i might need more help here
but either way
i think that i’m f+cked
the pinnacle of manic episodes
are really corrupt
till dusk
i must
still hush
till i cannot stay up

- 4ria lyrics

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