Probably fuck up your budget, yea, i’m playing with numbers
It's me and my crew up there, but maybe a couple others,
Confided in my boyfriend and talked all day
I was gonna write you a poem today
Maybe im just being a pathetic little bitch,
Hop off my dick and make a fucking sandwich
I know i'm not the best, maybe i'm not a rapper but a guest
Great sex, she ain't slept, she can't rest tomorrows that big test
Optimistic this isnt bad its different now
It's clear to me now, but i am not sure how
And we way too young to know love, maybe not but we don't need no rush
And if my record never break, i still won’t break my promise
Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free
Maybe i'm just being real but letting shit phase me
Is being slowly filled out, rappers not wack but not good,
I moved you up to hills, out the ills of the ghetto hood
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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