This the night death slides in, cold like winter sheets, I love the chill ‘cause it feels like her body in my bed, death got her ass where my pillow should rest. I’m a student from the streets, misunderstood every breath, I’m in love with death, ain’t no teacher but the pain, ain’t no lesson but regret. Friday the 13th, twenty-six candles in ‘22, birthday came with silence, love stayed locked, family played the fool. They been scripting lies since before 2010, by 2013 the truth already buried deep in them. Her mama asked me for a baby, forgetting she my brother’s bitch with three seeds already in her crib. How the streets supposed to bless me, when family cut me dirty like this? I’m a student from the streets, misunderstood every breath, I’m in love with death, when she press soft in my bed, sweet like fruit salad melting on my chest.