the end Lyrics

Bump stocks and oil filters for the rocket

This for times I can't remember finding filters in my pockets

I've been steady tryna feel some putting clips inside the socket

I can see where this is headed and I told that hoe to-

I ain't saying that I'm right but I can see where this is headed

Whitney Houston on the counter with the xylazine embedded

Mac-11 with the lead I said I'm never going to heaven

Boquerones fried in butter and then breaded

My life be like a sitcom, go on adventures with my many friends

Scooby Doo, we smoking up the minivan and look for clues

Steely Dan I drop a needle do my little dance

Asked me for my license, didn't like the sound of "who are you?"

Life was flashing through his eyes, it's mostly Instagram

I'm talking to the forest 'cause I mismeasured the micrograms

Wake up in the morning all confused

I pack my shit and leave

Called me up at midnight now I'm homebrewing her wii

It's a brick but it's a personal amount

Through the times I fucked up got my ass losing count

Picking at my scabs it wasn't healing 'til I let it be

It's Packboy I got holes in my memory