i've burnt my bridges, every side of this town. on top of the world, outside of the bar, yall can't make me come down. after the death threats and the medical scares they said i'd never see twenty two but i'm still standing here. my attitude, so much to lose, i should just shut my mouth. but every time i open up the truth just falls right out. jesus fucking christ if you really did exist, then strike me down right where i stand you pathetic son of a bitch. how the hell am i still alive? i've done everything they've told me not to, i'm still breathing fine. how the hell am i still alive when i practice all this soft suicide? back in my younger days i still had my doubts, it started out with crashing cars and liquor after stout.i quickly moved right through those gateway drugs to handshake drugs, mainline drugs, and on to selling drugs. they tell me to be careful, but i'm too far in the shit. i've got my girls, i've got my guns, i'm too legit to quit. they say be cautious who you pick up at last call, so i had them all, i fucked them raw and caused an urban sprawl. i drove across this country drunk a hundred times. i've lost my share of bar fights, but my face is just fine. i smoke a couple packs a day, but when it comes to cops i can still sprint a mile, still have yet to get caught. i never was as gracious to go on a single date, but somehow i have lovers in thirty something states. yes i understand everything great must die, but still, why haven't i?