Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag
I eat you like a afternoon snack, and i pour in the side glass some jack/
You got pets? me too: mine are dead
The rhythm gets into your head.
On a snake who faked the jack, yo, lift it back
To getting rich off a dream, i throw it the bag
Just can't understand why we gettin respect nowmomma told me they're be days like this
You cant afford the internet, so the only thing you have to jack off to is
Paint a picture in your head and ask why the fuck is that fence dull
Welcome to the euphoria of cocaine without able
The ear worms in my head,
If your man want to bet
But i have enough hearts to fuck you up in the head.
But i can't cause my eyes are red, now he's dead
Cause i ain't know for who or what the fuck to get
Fuck she's dead... throw her off the couch, rest my feet on her head.
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