Unzipped my wrists last night
And took my last breath of carbon dioxide
I wore my suit inside my car while I committed suicide
I drove down streets that we drove on
I left my blood on the doorknobs
Of the friends that I knocked on but were off
I don’t need answers, shit, I’m better off dead
Writing on my casket like it was my fucking bed
Hartkop wanted life but Divva stabbed him in the neck
Heard he drops off tours cause he’s fucked up in the head