Lyrics
Pick up to six lines to make a card.
(Chorus)
I’m a perc fiend
Walking through the mall my stomach burning
You don’t want one, baby these are 30’s
I know, I know, I know they gon hurt me
Mix it with the hi-tech, vision blurry
I don’t wanna talk, my speech is slurring
Had so many they thought I was serving
I don’t feel a thing my problems buried
I sold my soul, I sold it to a perky
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