Im moving on from ex , but i get jealous , am i a hypocrite?
Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,
Im steady surgin' with verses, deadly but on the surface im nervous
No not the heiress just one from an escort service
Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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