Cars, Bittch

Yo how you do that Yeah I'm feelin like I'm being hunted Momma think I'm smoking told her open up my lungs yea Catch me in the shower getting busy and it's 1:10 In these weird relationships like music is my wife and social media's her husband Feelin like a cuck I'm a little rusty Writing shit that's mid as f*ck but that's just what they want yea God told me- Rod told me if you make a fuss make it art Don't argue with the Jetz Lil itchy on my neck Cause I know I'm still on read Petty rap world Pretty math girl Taught me music is the drug that keeps you stable in your bunk bed Wonder where my fucks went 8th grade waiting 'till I'm 70 at peace and never upset I'll wonder how the pain felt 17 and praying that a god'll let my shame melt 17 inside a school and waiting till my fames held M-A-N-S-I-O-N is how I like my name spelled My life been a mess but you like Cyprus so you can't tell Whole days shitty 'till I pass the sound of eight bells I ain't even playin when I say I turned her straight For real she said until she met me she thought she was gay B-O-N-E-R-I-P A million is hard to me If I could tell myself in sixth grade that I got women in the car with me Then he'd be on his cocky shit I'd still be an artist And I'd still be in traffic dodging semis and them cars, bitch