When they showed up at your door at christmas
Of which im not exactly proud of,
He storms to his computer room and, types that you're a faggot.
That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit
I reel them in, goadomes on see
Thoughts of immortality
Left brain, super 3, creator ace
I conquer in all types and ways
Couldn’t adapt to naps, i wear caps
We're two different types of romance,
Tired of feeling wired of dealing
And my wish is to have everything
Of being of always getting wired
And i don't care if she gone, in a long skirt
Using blacks of course was of wide appeal
And i'mma be honest she's the fliest here
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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