Imaginary senses manifest in your motion.
Scramble like randall if john randle was trynna get him
You stood me up and i understand
You fried under that heated lamp,
Control is what you had me under
That don’t mean i’ma stunt her
Let's enjoy our younger years
Got bitches ducking under covers
That damier bag i bought her
Now your done and six feet under
Then bury her under the pavement
If you feel it, it must be real just
I just cant under stand it
Aye jay, 8 grand skins gonna take that
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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