A coward dies a thousand deaths
I painted a crime just for the feds
I said hey, you right there
Turtle dicks comb my hair
With rain pouring down her already wet hair
And them which is more of a circus than a fair
Portraits of self hatred painted to worship
What a mess! but we clean in the club
Gotcha lips baby while i pull your hair
Nowhere, let's let that sucker stay out there
Runnin' this bitch like i do not care
She's lightskinned, thick and she has blonde hair!"
But i still got that flow in my hair,
Believing the screens or anything there
I'm sick enough to steal your cat, tear out all his hair,
When the depth chart came, there was no me there
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