Dima Buhalzev

Telling me to beep the dealer to deliver me stuff. Keep it a secret from my wife cause she thinks I don't use drugs. There I was, bleeding from my nose. And damn, I couldn't breathe. But I'm still thinking about the next ram. It's Friday night. I'm not trying to leave my cryptos. I'll kill myself while the dealer's eating Japanese food. I ain't got no prize while buying the shit. I'm lying to myself. Telling the runner I'm trying to quit. It's all made for leads. I'll pretend that I'm true. And when you give me credit, I'll argue every chance that I get to. Even if it's good, I'll sniff it up in a minute. Leave you back and complain that you put too much cut in it. If you fall for that and bring me a new sack, I'll be making more crazy faces than just