Bitch i feel like kanye off his fucking meds

Cancel shit cause of my fucking stress

Chop up beats and vocals just to impress

Myself i might not even put this on the shelf

Demos rewrites and new vocal takes

That’s my personal hell

Old ideas new wav files

Old beats new textiles

When it comes to work

Pussy i’m in that first percentile

Old bitches come to me to vent now

Just leave em feeling left out

I’ve took the dеtour, found a new route

Put you to the flamе like lūʻau

Merely living proof now

Of talent grouped up with vultures who come and swoop down

Carti bitch i’m going to the moon!

Barbie you’re the dumbass of the group

Net junk the house where i’m spitting in the booth

Team full of faggots charlie puth

Your clique imaginary call em blu

Not no kid still in school

Ima fucking artist doing shit you wish you could

Bitch

Digital aids:

Bitch i feel content without my fix

Yet feeling pent up in this bliss

I’m sending letters through my fist

Ain’t got vendettas, not one to diss

For two weeks been fed up, just taking hits

Am i lesser? make a mess of all my friendships if i slip

No fall from grace cuz i have yet to find a face

Plus this laced up slut been fucking every basket case

That i have come upon

Trace ain’t what i leave

So placements up in arms

I’m slow to every little thing yet races never won

By any fucking racist where i stay

Cuz they my stepping stones

See those mistakes take the cake flip it

And you best make sure the ovens on

Cuz this heat we deliver cannot be faked

Yet half my meals microwaved

Vibrations keep me sane

What’s been in my head?

Drown it out with shit chris just sent

Apathy spinning when my show ends

Cold hands around my throat

No blood flow when is it coming back

I need to throw hands

Breaking both our bones till the stones win

Bitch