Allowing me to calculate and measure the depths of my depression,
And i got a girlfriend so i'm a keep lying until the verse end, fin
My bitches ballin' to the maya moore's, yes
And i'm a hit'cha wit the blow of death
Eventually leading you to depression
I roam like phone with no vocal reception
I hope she's blessed and her mom copes with the death
When i die tell them to turn my coffin to stretch benz
And death, beaten will decay
Gotta say it was a good day
And now the chance of my death increases.
Together all the timethought it was true love
I can taste the salt from my tears
Been on my shoulder and wait for my death
Also, this mothafucka got a nine to five
Death and anxiety have riddled my life,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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