Take her back to where i live
Of the book of your life
There ain't no genie jars to grant what your petty wishes are
She od's on louboutin, she work at that nudie bar
Feeling, of appealing
Don't want to be the king
It’s whatever, you shine, i shine
Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,
Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators
You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse
We can’t even talk ‘less you got the check
Jars upon jars, but yet no jam for the bread.
Thoughts of immortality
God mc oh my god you gotta see
... club, we'll be actin' real nice
Top of my pile of bodies
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