And a fridge and some broccoli
I'm sitting on this couch, wrist bloody
And erase my number out the phones of these fake hoes
I remember shotguns and modest working class homes,
If it's wet enough i might just need a wine glass
Slice and slash, bite and gnash, bite and mash, fight and smash,
You couldn't live your life for the moment
Grab the scissors and saws and
And don't ever (and don't ever)
The plight of a rapper or whatever
I'm modest, and humble
And inhospitable,
Blow trees like a hurricane
Guns in the trunk, aks mayne
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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