Cross My Heart - Esham

«Fuck, man… I hate myself, man.»

«My life is fucked up, man.»

«I just need to slit my wrist, man.»

«I just wish I was dead.»

Son of a bitch

Jason wants to slit his wrists

But I’ll tell you like this

Shouldn’t take the risk

Knowing the consequences well

The suicidal suckers end up in Hell

Some rather be dead than living instead

Cause the planet is fucked up and misled

By fools like you

Running 'round telling motherfuckers what they can and can’t do

Butterflies in my stomach

Make me want to vomit cause I know Doomsday is coming

Jason’s facin' life or death

It’s do or die

And as he takes a deep breath he wonders who will cry

The only one who really cares is you and I

But you’re the only one who really knew why

Life’s a bitch from beginning to end and then you die

Living the life of sin, and why

I can see it in your eyes I’m not surprised

As you cross your heart and hope to die

Living your life on the edge of panic

Still you’re manic

Cause you was born a schizophrenic

Never knew life was a bitch, but it is so hard

I’m living low in the graveyard

Take a trip to another side, another place

Lying in a casket with a dead man’s face

Who gives a fuck about you, nobody but you

But I didn’t have to tell you that

Cause that’s something you already knew

Just like a razor to the wrist I’m going to cut you quick

Last dying words is, «I'm a son of a bitch!»

Son of a gun and I’ve just begun to bleed

As I scream Jesus Christ I fall to my knees

And as everyone cries they wonder why

I crossed my heart and hoped to die

My rhyme is like a 9 to the forehead

And once you push play, you’ll pull the trigger and now you’re dead

A suicidal, homicidal, homicidal, suicidal recital

Is what I recite when I’m on the mic

At midnight I’ll smother you like crib death

And find my record spinning

You’ll never knew I was grinning when I did that

This is the U-N-H-O-L-Y

Deadly like pesticide

So just step aside

Once I knew a little girl was playin' my tape on Sunday

They found her in some headphones dead on Monday

Hanging from a chandelier

The only thing to fear is fear

When you get them butterflies you know the Unholy is near

Some disappear and never be found

Some are smothered by the rhythm and then drowned

And when I blow your mind your won’t know why

You’ll soon cross your heart and hope to die