Never tell em bend over i just make em’ take a bow
Everyday that i miss you it brings back the woe.
When you can't make a hit even on a golf range
I always judge a book by the cover, never the page
Out of control, and suck the joy out of them both,
For all the killas and the 100 dollar hoes
With joy a feeling they hadn't has for so long.
Cuz you f-frontin and f-fakin its just plain wrong
You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three
To become a demon, reamin joy from everybody,
Deflect what the weather brings
I’m so fly i don’t even got wings
But, i'm chasing my dream here, trying to see what life brings
Until then, my feet planted on the ground, shadowboxing my conscience
I look into her eyes and it brings me joy
Ain't like my job or guys i employ
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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