Strolled in

• Written by 

She walked in like Bum B.
I strolled in with my hundred gees.
Golds, with my wrist, and they ice see.
Goals, first, you know everything pricey.
I didn't make it to the top playing games.
I was taking shots, at these phonies, in the shooting range.
It's a shame you look pressed in ball man.
I came, I dresses in balmain.
I am the dame, it's ordained.
I'm past the Queen flow.
The pasture green though.
Jelly cause I am that lethal.
I have no predesecors.
It's just the guessers.
Talking about who's better.
Flow sick, I call the weather.
Cold, I brought my sweather.
They bragging how's they're upper echelon.
How she got the Don.
How he moving on (ugh).
And I'm just getting warm.
I talk my shit, then ring the alarm.
 
 
I told them clap for me, if you know love me.
Like, 2,4,6, I'm in a hurry.
 
Since you wanna check me.
Now I'm yelling checkmate.
I'm smelling fear mixed in with a little fake.
So I had to end that quick.
I got plenty more bodies gotta make that trip.
I'm viscious.
While this chick fictitious.
She was lined up to flex.
Sent me the text.
So I came with the vest.
Talking 'bout disrespect.
I was well kept.
Could've rocked your shit and call it well swept.
Yellin' at me like you feelin' froggy.
I'm godly bitch you a probably bitch.
You haven't seen me dark, upset, yet.
Barking like a rabid dog you might need a vet.
Bow to the Goddess.
How you ain't modest?
You ain't stay humble.
Mrs. humpty dumpty you wanted to take a tumble.

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About the Artist

Reaper
Member since November 26 2013

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