Product of fate, or a product of the hate
Either way, its not a problem to me
As long as there's a bong and a quarter of weed
I'll be headed to the clouds I'll be back in a week
They'll be asking for me, like where the f*ck is he
He ain't ever asking for me, ill be back from my trip
I'll be asking for ice in my mother f*cking drink
I've never been one to have fun that's pretend
I can tell they apathetic I don't wanna be friends
And I wanna tie rope if I feel a connection
I'm just tryna give her d I don't mean no offense
I find it funny thinking bout people f*cking w me
Cause I can do it to myself so we can go, double team
The person in the mirror is my own enemy
Uh ye own enemy