peach death Video (MV)

Everyone is famous now from the comfort of a couch
Nothing left to talk about
I think I'd rather live inside a cabin made of shit somewhere out in the sticks
Half a century of this and we still serving dick
And we still murder kids, put something up in the brick
Hit a lick, f*ck a bitch, then put her in trafficking
Shit is sick, can't blame nobody shaming or hating this
If you want artistic vision you painfully gotta dig
Look at him, famous rapper guy did a crime
We should focus on that instead of our own lives
Isn't really worth a dime if it's not online
TMZ will show the end and we'll all just die
Everyone is learning how, making money selling pounds
Nothing left to talk about, nothing isn't meaningful
We rubbing off the serial
Documenting torment as a means of new material
Needing to be imperial
That's why all my new shit so weird
Quit my job turn a night to a whole year
Tried to get it back, everything I had
Gonna leave me empty, shell of a man saying things you won't hear
Opposite of dirty south, 315 we blowing loud
We don't give a f*ck about the fame, bitch we moving now
We are not the same as all these lame "rappers seeking clout"
Everything I mentioned in this song is what we do without
Opposite of John Cena, bitch, you can see me now
All I see is real screaming at me dancing in the crowd
No gassing up these addicts I'm an asshole when I'm making sounds
Let him lay back we can send his ass to Crouse