Hip Hop Sinatra

I ain't Mr. Steal Your Chick I'm Mr. Rock Your Bitch To Sleep In missionary position before I leave you can keep her I got her picture and her number in our friendship clause Matter of fact I'm still logged in on her Netflix bruh She relentless bruh I had to test this bruh An hour later she had emptied my testes bruh Ha And now she cookin' me eggs She's a shit chef but she gives incredible head So she forgiven I be sinning on the daily I admit And if I die today I'm gonna be in deep shit Representing BB7 on the corners I be dwelling With my fellas if I die you better ask for me in heaven If I ain't there already I'm steadily heavily getting depressed Every melody giving me stress Pursuit to be the fucking best Got me on the fucking edge... For real though Ay what's the deal though? Ay why you tryna screw me over? Fuckin dildos Imma be on billboards ill flows make you say 'Damn' Feel more realer than a J. Cole jam Jangle Leg Jangle Leg's what you are fuckin Bernies Stuck in a box open your ears and just hear me I've no chill the flow ill you cant cure me I'll freestyle whilst in your bitch boy don't dare me Don't come near me Okay I'll start pronouncing shit right Do come near me Because my bars are fire alright I'm writing all night and chasing this dream Been Cooking the beats from the age of fifteen Keen To see my name on your TV screen So imma grind through the night so you'll remember me What's my name!? 'This boy think he great Like he's Cassius Clay Just raps all day and earns no wage' Ha, You might be right but hey It's either this or a slave to cooperate companies Who pay you averagely so lady I'd rather die enormous than live dormant Get rich or die tryin' baby get to know the slogan Yeah, Uh Get to know the slogan But on a lighter note I'm taking over music A finger in every pie kinda like I abused it No I ain't rap imma hip hop Sinatra I make my own lane and imma have my own genre