And she throws up whatever she eats
At least not until my mom leaves
There's nothing but crumbled leaves and
But nah, he is quite different
To write motivated until the adrenaline leaves
Maybe i should buy some hundreds, wear some fucking skinny jeans
And you are to serve the consequences of your evil schemes
And money trees destroy us, hate leaks through the leaves,
That grow those damned trees, blood on the leaves
I say "stay", she wanna leave
You know the common statistic inspired by hoop dreams
Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves
Conspiracy theories, illuminati leaves the rest to die,
My city, growl with me, hootie hoo'ing through the night sky
Cystals dripping off a purple leaves
Because i'm seventeen, compose my own beats
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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