Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold
But it ain't hard to tell,his soul is already sold
I need guidance in my life sometimes hustle is hard to bear
Insecure as bitches blind dating with a pimple there
I bet it hard being you
Straight bad bitches i run, through
Wet willy shit, pussy i need a minute
I tried to sell my soul, the devil couldn't afford it
My soul flying to the clouds, but then i feel that doubt
Lets celebrate, levitate, with the loud
At the same damn time, got these bitches poppin' monkey
Well never know, but it ain't hard to tell, my street poetry
Me lay down tracks. so take a step back and look in the mirror then maybe you will
My rhymes may be sentimental but to get this far i had to sell my soul to the devil.
Lately i been stressing so i need you like i’m crazy
Don't get it twisted, your being listed, on my hitlist, by me.
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