Untitled

Things are different Whats the piece thats missing Feeling the wind push back thru all the bytchin Riffing Like overdosin a perscription In my cross hairs the vision So whats the point of me writing this then Idk I will go back and forth til im pointed north Whats the sort The one thats hard to court Hard to handle hard to export Idk Ill clear a path as i go As i keep walking Fo sho Right now im breathing so This season is the time to gain control...... Peace