This is a song about "I m not babblin"

And there's little to be glad for

I"m the designated driver

I m stuck with my laptop in this shitty office...

I've got a paper plane, it's propelling my buzz

She's cute but her forehead's big

This flow so slow, i`m so slick,

Cuz they all broken, why do ghetto birds die

After all the weed....now i m feeling very high...

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

Hey y'all i''m sick like necrophiliacs in graveyards

And we way too young to know love, maybe not but we don't need no rush

Bt i m still writing my rap which is lyrical and melodious....

Go pull out your m i gear from inside the dresser

Let me go like this, ready for whatever