BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Untitled Song
- I'm grinding
- By god, stop whining
- And my grandmother dying
- Okay i’m lying, but i’m trying
- I got a big fear of flying
- She's amazing im not lying
- I ain't hiding, y'all ain't riding
- Abroad flying and bar buying from broad writing
- The most that they can do is find me, i'm hiding
- On occasion, the place gets exciting and inviting
- The most that they can do is find me, i'm hiding
- No guys, i woon't stop what i'm writing.developing cavities cause revenge is sweet
- My heart beatsechoes into the cold streetswhere nightmares and darkness begin to meet
- Sign a cdbut right now, does it look too shabby, t?look down can't even see my feet
- Roley, rolex, relaxsay she just gave me head, leaned over in the front seat
- So my outlook's dim and my house is eventually without any heat
- Livin' off ya dreams like christina uh milian in the front seat
- So they hurtin but what's for certain you can get you some heat
- My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet
- If you see a bad bitch in the passenger seat
- Now the first week sales can't hardly compete
- Stuck in positions. if victims can't stand the heat
- Cause i got a big fetish with the feet
- Wale: i turn beef into mince meat
- Bitches roll sweets as i lay back in the suite
- But hey yo look, money from across the street
- Developing cavities cause revenge is sweet
- And everything after nautilus ain't a beat
- We have so much in common, starting at the feet
- Think it's sweet, think he get money across the street
- Chasing for the wind but you never win the track meet
- I'll tell you true stories, how i coldly hold heat
- My ex bitch bitter now cause everything sweet
- Long as i can feel my heart tap like happy feet
- For me looks good she said oh you so sweet
- Hot whips somethin cold on my feet
- Yeah i know we never got to meet
- I can always go home and look down my street
- Your bitch fuck us up: every nigga that she meet
- Long as i can feel my heart tap like happy feet
- Until i give her gashes where it's nothin' but the white meat
- My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet
- Chrome lips on the forgi's damn near swallowing the street
- Nigga fuck you cracker, i put you six feet
- And we stumpinbut can't catch the beat
- Outstanding clout, what up greg street
- Me and my peeps often meet
- Cause they right down the street
- From the back seat, back seat
- Nightmare on any street
- Swear i will murk any beat
By Anonymous
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