Multiple middle fingers in the air
When the depth chart came, there was no me there
There must be another route, way out
Fuck a pest, we ain't in raid drought
And if they did, they didn't care
I'm running out of air
And the air force scrambles fighters
Better yet they work my every nerve
A fly by air raid wit a bombardment of brilliance
Real enough to admit i listen to people's opinions
I mean me is there, but it's like three there
Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.
I travel through your mind into your spine like siren drills
My entendres be tumblin’ while you niggas lack balance
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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