backup

Got some money in my pocket
But that doesnt make a difference at all, at all, at all
This isnt fame Im ****ing lame
Im just boy whose tryna figure it out, it out , it out
Well maybe this is ****ing it
The audience has turned against
They wanna justify the creepin and leak my moms home address
The paranoia rises best when your words sit inside my chest
Im ****ing human dont forget that when youre making your requests
Ive got my hands up
Youve got your hands on your gun
Calling for backup
Im not the only one
Ive got a question
Does torturing me sound fun
Yeah, you take out your stress
By punching holes out of everyone
Got some whiskey in my cup
But I dont think that its enough at all, at all, at all
This isnt me I tell myself
I constantly worry about my health, whoa oh oh
Well maybe I should ****ing try
cause death is creepin right behind
I see him sitting in the corner lookin oh so ****ing sly
Anxiety is on the rise when hes constantly on my mind
I fear the day is finally coming where I meet my own demise
Ive got my hands up
Youve got your hands on your gun
Calling for backup
Im not the only one
Ive got a question
Does torturing me sound fun
Yeah, you take out your stress
By punching holes out of everyone