After all the weed....now i m feeling very high...
Revelations say you either fry or fly
Because i'm seventeen, compose my own beats
I'm not crazy i 'm doing gods deeds
I head to the islands the tropics,
Nowadays usually it's his pockets
I`m a mania tic weapon, running away from this oppression
So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin
I said that i loved you, heartbeats when you get near
I m not making u feel that u r my dear...
I m stuck with my laptop in this shitty office...
I'm tryna follow money, she tryna fall in love
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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