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letra de 8 weeks - insane poetry

[intro]
i believe, i believe she took my mind

[chorus: insane poetry]
even though she can’t speak (can’t speak, can’t speak)
i hear her talking in my sleep (in my sleep, in my sleep)
even though she can’t speak (can’t speak, can’t speak)
i hear her talking in my sleep (in my sleep, in my sleep)
even though she can’t speak (can’t speak, can’t speak)
i hear her talking in my sleep (in my sleep, in my sleep)
i know why she can’t speak (why?, why?)
’cause she been dead for eight weeks (eight weeks, eight weeks)
[verse 1: insane poetry]
beautiful boo that was beautifully beaten to death
don’t mean to be rude, i was truly just feeding your flesh
baby it’s cool, our interlude was you meeting your death
now you’re in the view of my nightmares from releasing stress
you’ve got the stench that i love, sometime i hate as well
making me feel like puking, sometimes i can’t take the smell
the fact your skin is black and purple, and grey as h-ll
with your lips sewn shut, i can’t escape this h-ll
i hear your voice at night around the witching hours
maybe it’s my guilty conscience that really gives it powers
the love i have for you is going out, i’m sick of ours
you are like a milf when the milk is soured, wilted flowers
you’re at the stage where i can smell your f-cking body rotting
as if today i have to say i’m not jolly ’bout it
but i done found a replacement that i do adore
’cause every f-cking night i hear you talking through my floor (through my motherf-cking floor)

[chorus: insane poetry]
even though she can’t speak (can’t speak, can’t speak)
i hear her talking in my sleep (in my sleep, in my sleep)
even though she can’t speak (can’t speak, can’t speak)
i hear her talking in my sleep (in my sleep, in my sleep)
even though she can’t speak (can’t speak, can’t speak)
i hear her talking in my sleep (in my sleep, in my sleep)
i know why she can’t speak (why?, why?)
’cause she been dead for eight weeks (eight weeks, eight weeks)
[verse 2: cody manson]
yeah, look, yuh
i hear her whisper even though her lips are stitched shut (yeah)
all my friends always tell me that i’m a sick f-ck (ahahaha)
i see my d-ck up in her ribs when i’m up in her guts (ugh)
what can i say? i’m a sucker for a big b-tt (yeah)
there’s no memorial, there’s no body at her funeral (uh uh)
’cause she’s still laying up in my living room (dead)
she never talked back, she ain’t got no feelings too (nope)
you ever make a dead b-tch climax to her pinnacle? (have you?)
i have, i like all my molly pill form (pill form)
sh-t, this the type of b-tch i woulda k!lled for (woulda k!lled for)
that p-ssy cold but i hit it like it’s still warm (ugh)
i’m ’bout to start a genre called still p-rn (yeah)
tattoos of her bruises, listen to lucifer’s music
secreting bodily fluids while them demons influence (they influence)
yeah, yeah, we got a different connection (what you mean?)
even though her limbs are disconnected (yeah)

- insane poetry

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