Mr reeve is sitting, i don't wanna be sitting
I was fiending for the meals; i ain't talking burger king
The paper to the pen.
And do i need to mention when
J. cole's her ghost writer
Than the birds on the wire
In the face of the outside.
It sends her on a trip so right
I'm the operator, the administrator.
Stir up all these feelings inside of her
That damier bag i bought her
You're the servant, i'm the master.
And when i'm done with her, ain't no other male to compare
You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air
Your the boat without the paddle
Lady at the frank stand will
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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