Sneakers wasn’t fitting and my knees needed lotion
And start making all kinds of commotion
So now they making millions off of prisons
So here i am at the store for some chips
My visions that i record, the instruments i adore
Kids are making fun of me and my feelings are still not tore
Make fun of me and yell at me well fine
Let me put my funk on this one time
And start making all kinds of commotion
Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin
I'll have you making dozens of faces.
All we need is convienient love
In control of everyone, that's got to be a fun job
Then she riding on the topshe about to make it pop
Huh, a metaphor of course
We made fun out of our jazz talks
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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