Mixtape

This is my adaptation of you A free form experimentation Of different nods and beats, Truth of the matter I don't know why I ***s with you I just do To some decree; you spit certain knowledge unknowingly That real deep that hits you at the most unexpected time pause.. A bias rendition that requires repetition. A self made queen whom rocks to the throb of whatever she feels To whatever internal ache that coincides. It is that which is much needed. That sense of something real Something you can feel I don't know why I ***s with you I just do But that bleak moment you speak from the side of your neck That wackoff beat otherwise categorized as bull That any any time none sense That I curve plenty s for your dumbass bull but instantly get mad soon as I say play ball. That moment of build up waiting for your favorite artist to drop, cop the album then find its complete utter bull Don't at all get it twisted I grub it because it's you I ingest it cause it's you But don't at all get it twisted The old you kills everything you put out now days But I ***s wit it because it's you