60. my bars have been plastering,
Like wu-tang, look how i do the thing
So i'mma talk about a little bit of that
Im a fucking angel, call me cherubic
Only 60 degrees and a mild shiver
I don't know.. what you're lookin' for
I'm reaching out, but i can't reach her
They tested with stress that they under
Reaching the top i lay my hand on the gate.
Most niggas love nothin' so i made this tape
My music is so good its almost therapeutic
Swear a niggas draws be on some stupid neiman marcus shit
Of errors, exact-o knife receptors reaching sectors
And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth
That you allow me to work it 'til you know what your actual worth means
Filled with repressed trauma subconscious reaching out to me in my dreams
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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