Blood stain, your slain, your brain
My buzz is like cocaine
You can feel it via spirit
Roll your eyes & talk your shit.
That's why you'll find her on the floor
Your only in fight with your damn war
Gross and sick is it to see 'em
It's slight blemishes and life system
No it's not, it's gross (gets the people going)”
Come downstairs with nothing but a shoe string
Now you speaking my language
Your not a thug but your a bitch
Freezing your nose, your eyes, your corneas,
Chanel slippers on my bitches like you go love
Gross homicide, both upside in a rose stride
She in colors and shit, she off that northern lights, right
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