Thoughts of a Suicidal Boy

What really is the point.
I don't really get it.
The only time I do is when I'm smoking a joint
But everybody keeps on telling me to quit it.
They say it's not healthy for me,
But I tell them it's lifting up my spirits.
Do they think I'm dimwitted.
I only feel good when I hit this.
And anybody that has a problem with that is going on my hit list.
I'm done with war with words,
I'm about to put my fist in it,
I'm about to put my hip in it,
And I'm not doing the Hockey Pocky
Man I got a clip in it.
Well, not in it but on the side.
And I'm about to finish
Every single person inside.
I'm done with forgiveness.
Because everybody is always telling me lies.
And I have no friends,
Besides the ones in disguise.
And every single girl I like,
That I wave at
Never wave back
Or say Hi.
But love to say it to other guys,
But still can't reply,
When she's talking to me.
We going to see what she can say when she's walking to me,
Tomorrow in the hallways.
And if she says nothing as always,
I'm blasting her in the face,
And shooting all day
In all ways.
Until the police tries to stop me,
And drop me.
I'm popping
Ever single cop that tries to cop me.
And lock me,
Away or put me in chains.
I know my parents are ashamed,
That we have the same last name,
Because I'm insane,
So I put it to my brain,
Knowing what I'm holding and going.
BANG!!!!!