Istasha - THE TRAIL RUNS COLD lyrics

I discard a rat, get em fucking back
Im a slave to karma, get me off of that

Strait in the face of the fucker
Damn me if I'm wrong I'm sorry
Strait in the face of the fucker
Damn me if I'm wrong I'm sorry

Cover my credit with broken bills I
Wish you pay me off complain the remaining
I maim the savings under coveralls
My legs in the back of the vault
Runnin on mills they’re treading bricks over
Buildings hoping they fall out

Send me back, get me out ask the fuck about
Motherfucking listen to me when I
Tell you to be there
Hey stop, hands up, drop you fucking hand gun
I don't wanna be the one who
Get the fucking head shot

Move out the back of my channel
I route it til the drywall is dry as a
Dialed plug that supplied it with no fucks
Serviced as I tap into firewalls
End up pleasing the customers
Interactions still fake, scroll files for em

Send me out, I will go to own reality

I discard a rat, get em fucking back
Im a slave to karma, get me off of that
I discard a rat, get em fucking back
Im a slave to karma, get me off of that

Strait in the face of the fucker
Damn me if I'm wrong I'm sorry
Strait in the face of the fucker
Damn me if I'm wrong I'm sorry

I discard a rat, get em fucking back
Im a slave to karma, get me off of that

Strait in the face of the fucker
Damn me if I'm wrong I'm sorry
Strait in the face of the fucker
Damn me if I'm wrong I'm sorry