Read at 11:07 PM

It's the most coastal boasting from Post
It's like I'm regurgitating before the toast
I see the curse in her eyes, a broken cornea
My shit ain't poppin', so I'm being more cornier
I mean this fucking rhythm only here because I was dribbling, drooling, sulking and boo-hooing
I lost my crew, to the drugs and the pools
To the kids with parents who had less rules
So the sober stoner with no friends to lean a shoulder threw some quarters to buy mic holder, that entrapped his motor
I always told her I was gonna be mogul
She disregarded and crept for another Dakota poser
Have a blast with that Aryan ass
The whole culture that fucker has is what he finds on Twitter, and hashtags
He fuckin' burnt, he don't lack toast
He tryna' beef, but I'm intolerant of lactose
I lost blokes and toking bros since the Summer froze
But now I'm left alone, with thoughts that sooth the soul
Supposed to die due to predisposition
Fuck that jerking shit, lyrically, I'm on a mission
To show the schools, Mr. and Mrs. that I'm more than a man
To show native americans can
(To show native americans can)