Verse1
Police are probably popping at all those
Properties
Pardon my sense of politics
I’m struggling from the poverty

Part of the problem is poisoning your own prophecies
W/ wisdom & philosophies
That perpetrate your honesty

I can’t be part of it, parting from all your arguments I’d rather be a therapist & fix it
From a distance

Discussing different wishes gaht me cheating on my misses
I’ve been distanced for minute now I’m back to all my feelings
We can kick it, if you wit’ it, we ain’t gaht act like children
Daily contradiction i don’t love you, but i feel it
These the typa’ visions, had me seeing my own blisters
I been, losing stitches from sum’ bitches on a picture
Pick another fix and say bye bye to living Pixar
Blissful Mona Lisa chose to make her señorita
Amma’ prolly regret I heard that shit from all my niqqaz, but this is my life don’t need advice from faking preachers

Verse2
Not even em’ good days ever last, coz I’m holding on to the past
The torture of my pride & the bitches I coulda’ had
Damn, it’s so obsessive coz writing is not path
I was actually chosen for provoking more then moment
Gaht those summertime lines, that bitches find convincing
Fucking every time we high we call that shit tradition
Beauty in between her thighs jus waiting 4 permission
But she love me and she can’t deny tonight she’ll let me kiss it
Submission coz I’m the victim, you know how i felt and took advantage of my feelings
Now I’m sitting reminiscing bout’ our love like it’s an image
(and truly speaking I don’t see it)