September The 8th

*lighter flick*

It's mad, it's actually so mad this year
Past 6, 12, 18 months. Absolute mazzalene
But this is where I'm at. For now, at least

Running to the bag
Like an athlete
In a rat race
We ain't at the same track meet

Plotting every day
All damn week
Blowing trees
Blowing bags
Killa K Sha'Carri

Cocaine got me numb
Got me feeling gnarly
Bad bitch riding me
Like a fucking Harley

Unreciprocated she keep accin
Like she love me
Til I up and disappear
& Ghost her like Omari

Baby girl I'm not the one for you
I swear I'm sorry
If I weren't so tragic I swear
You would find it funny

It's not personal
Don't like gеtting hurt is all
Cop out yeah I know
But she think I'm worth it so

East end unicorn
PF uniform
Don't watch whеre I'm from
Smoke gorilla strong

Nomad yeah I'm gone
Still her number one
Don't do it for fun

I don't that's the thing. I'm sure from afar. It must look like
Burning bridges and alienating people is a fucking habit. But. It's not. It's not

I just want the funds see
Reddies and the monkeys
Poverty don't touch me
Bored of it fed up

Bored of it fed up please
Writing til the sun reach
Sermons on my rap sheets
Fucked up cos I'm on three

Plug just hit my line told me
K I got some purple in
Drugs don't work
They make it worse
I guess I got a problem

Cos I can't stop getting fucked up
For the hell it