Left chicago with good money for 5 drops
Youre a cornball who claims to be among gods
Call up the exorcist
Yeah, i never dreamed of a gift
My shirt, purple label my shirt
Creyente, believer in gods word
Could call me the procrastinator
Other dudes be huggin and nourishin her
We both teenagers with the same mind state
Cuz anybody bitin' the gods' a year late
My understanding led to not being good, the gods only knew how to mock
And if i speak the good into existence, that instant my dreams will unlock
Spit up to the gods at gaza..
Lucky seven probably poppa
For destroying the human race and taking gods place,
When the relay starts i’m a runaway slave
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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