Art of Improv-

Damn seems so far I've been a wack artist But I'm getting better this pressure fueling my gas compartment Moving through the city I'm air polluting and still self harming But don't be alarmed tho it's only fire I'm always tired Never getting hired, I'm getting high Just getting by tho F*ck minimum wage this valley heat I gotta leave Bitch don't wear a sleeve a cut up wrist just need a kiss Feeling like I'm D rose damn cause I don't ever miss Except when I'm fucking, I'm ducking cause I don't need no kids F*ck my mental health my composure that's what I need to fix But I'm never sober No hope, no lucky clover It's gone, bitch that's my closure Don't go, I won't go, I won't go, bitch this aint over Now splash, wet up the toaster I'm burnt along the outside She's wet then I'm a monster She left me at the altar And since then I've been better but my mind always wanders along I'm alone, I been told, so why the f*ck would I bother Aye I don't even know if I'm enough But ima get it done for sure Talking shit you fucking up Just step back you ain't tough On my cross chain you'd get turnt to dust I can't take this shit no more don't wanna be aggressive Talking all this lavish shit but really fucking reckless I'm sorry mom I love you all but hate life in the present If I'm alive 10 years from now I'm not too far from heaven Aye When I'm with my homies it's serotonin we telling stories Telephone is ringing we bringing nothing but problems coming Talk about offenses my reckless nature gone get respected But you're not affected by me if you didn't listen Obedience ain't my name but it's fear that I put in place All about protection reflecting across my space I keep a smith n wesson wit me, that's just incase You gotta keep watchin homie, you're never safe When the baddest in the street, and WE NEVER LEAVE Bitch i know who you ain't I give a f*ck just what you think Is what you flex on the gram Just what you mark off your receipt I'll hit up ya mans because I, don't give a damn Now I'm washing my hands and I got blood up on my sink 'Aye' 17 In heat but this hotter pocket make you retreat They wonder how I made it while sitting upon they seats Cause like I'll do what i gotta til im rich or deceased