Stuck In Place

Slumped in my bed, don't you dare turn the lights on

I been watching the top of my ceiling and now the nights gone

Sun rising on my red eyes

Crust riling on the corner, like I sell pies

Seventy-three hour walk to my partner crib

Wall start to dry, furnishing curtains with a pile of (ish)

Might just quit for today, you can find me where the roaches live

Cause I got residue, from the weeks and the chips

Tryna head to the stu, but the green on the fritzs

And I seen what I thought were the pits

In the past, now I piecing together all the pacts

That I made back in tenth, grade