Untitled Song

writing sweet rhymes to rap over this beat

heating up cold leftovers like its somethin to eat

bitch dont wanna cheat i could treat you to a private retreat

no when to greet, not during times of weep, ing

try not to cling, lets just have a one night fling

bing zing ting ping, onomatopoeia cause I know I can sing

hit my line with a ring, know you tryna have a drink

 

once I hit you with that wink, you're monogamous dreams they run

down the sink, and thats all that you can think

till the day I'm buried under sphinx, on the brink

 

of confusion, cause im never losin

if you try an top me, hit you with the lou khen im talkin shin

staple your face like my name was vince, until my kin, ima keep goin in

I make ya head hurt, take some as-pi-rin, im chasin frank-a-lins

and fuckin sexy twins, with two sexy grins, when did I start?

all I say is I been, and I'm con-tin-u-ing, her pussy tin-g-ling

my dick is crippling, cookin up breakfast whats sizzling

thinkin bout the future rocks in my ring, and what the future can bring

also waiting on the day that yall crown me a king

day yall crown me a king

 

these frozen leftovers aint workin no more, wanna be out on tour

these frozen leftovers aint workin no more, wanna be out on tour

these frozen leftovers aint workin no more, and thats for sure

and thats for sure

 

Soon soon, ill be at the top, and then I wont stop, ill never flop

catch me in my flippy flops, while gettin sloppy top

like 50 cent ill take ya to the candy shop, surely you'll be dropped

i was at the bottom and you was at the top, and we just swapped

 

listenin to you might as well be a chore

my shit is so fire beware you may be scorched, turned into a corpse