Literature Girl. (A Montage)

Look at how skinny I am
Like you can barely see my ribs

And I just got me a tan
I'm steady sitting in the sun

And summer starting to end
I know I need to hit the gym

Instead of hitting these grams
But that's exactly what y'all want

For me to tweak on these plans
Instead I tweak on these beats
Hop out the jam with 'preme pants

Subtle flex is humble brag to me
I stunt when I stand

On some JoJo
You can go up on my lawn
Get these hands

I'm used to everybody saying I'm nothing
I ain't have no safe haven
Who am I to eat lunch with?

Either I'm rollin with papers
Or I be rollin with punches
I'm too weird for the public
Who am I gonna trust in?
I'm used to fighting with people
No, I don't know what love is
Can it be eaten? Then fuck it
Can it be fucked with? Then eat it

I ain't no expert in affection I just find it intriguing

Ain't no one woman on my sleeve
Until I turn twenty-three, then...

You got the silver on your four-arms
Like you General Grievous

Meanwhile I'm higher than a Death Star
Nigga, pledge your allegiance

So fragrant and so pungent
I thought of getting a beeper

I thought of getting that duffy
But I done seen the homie Alias

That nigga got demons

I'm never rich with the product
But I ain't broke with it either

Finances got me beleaguered
But I ain't livin with nothin

Y'all busy being consumers
I'm tryna flip my consumption

These blunts don't cheat or tell rumors
They only burn when they buzz me

And unlike she
They make it clear they stick around me for
Money...

Well...

I wear despair like it was weaved in by lapel
Blow an L

Apparel pale and
Fair I stare at
Heavens I'm in Hell

The griminess of my nature
Aside

I sold my soul
To a
Nine to five
To survive
I got time

Tap her like
Magic
Flip the
Card to the side

Smokin bogeys out of
Boredom
For the motive I die

Shackles the kinda materials
Used for suits and ties

My hands in hella cereal boxes
Ain't find a prize

Shorty was never rollin for me till I changed attire

Rotated to Harvey
Somebody stole my lighter

Light trees
Like a source of fiber
Nigga, carbohydrates

They gas me up
I wash my hands of it
That nigga Pilot

Spent last night writing
Trials of the light skinned boy
Published in four sets

Memoirs of a pretty nigga (yay)
With an ugly forehead (awww)

Church on a printed text

Nigga like merch
If you can't back it
Why you even bet?

Your muscles feelin kinda sore
So why you even flex?

Snapping pictures
Passin problems
Poppin percs at sets

And back on earth all of your
Demons they ain't even left

So why it surprising
You arrive
And they be at 'cha neck?

I lived in castles
Made of orange VHS cassettes

Now I smoke on secondary hues
And they be super wet

Feelin like a cruiser jet
(Jeeeeeeet)

My dialect smooth

The coated wizard
With the rhythm
Infiltrated your crew

The Windy City nigga
Quick to pick the sticks
Off your roof

They don't want hits
They don't want catchy lyrics
They just want truth

I brought them
Trees to the booth

I'm steady growin on these
Cats like a malignant tumor

Spread dem cheeks
Just like a rumor

Kiddie game on Nicky jr

Raw to the millenials
And beastly to the baby boomers
Swell to all the gentlemen
And swole up on them haters too

But in a sense
I'm not as raw as I say I am

Salty under sweet disposition resemble Christmas ham
Givin thanks to thanksgiving turkeys perhaps they'll pass the yams

Play it on the day that he died
Cause dude had mad plans

My boy Quinn wasted a couple uzis in both his hands...

Since apparently
Y'all rockstars...
Recycled, opened cans

Bars are my wheat and margarine
From out the jam

I always been a nutty nigga
Lost in the gutters and badlands
Shoot...

(Shoot
Aye run that magic on em)
Fine

Word to Gold
Word to Sutra

Kydd a rascal
Mom a trooper

Prez an orange
Lamb's an Uber

Senpai
You a Looney Tuner

Danny Phantom
You a Goofy Goober

Big dog
You a weenie junior

Ain't for the crew
Gotta box and suit'cha

I eat on China
You wearin China

I wear designer
You run a fine up

I pay the piper
You paid to pipe her

I hit for free
And you none the wiser

Desk job
Is a kind of slave

iPhones to a microwave

Lit match makes a
Brighter cave

Y'all stay damp
I hit em with the spray
(Breathe, breathe)

Wrote a whole entire tape about my ex cuz she evil

I'm like the oddest individual
Only right I get even

Or just excessive
Drunk off vengeance

You can call as you see it...
Wrote a whole entire tape about my ex cuz she evil

And how apparently
True love was
Never meant for good people

It's been a while and now
I realize
That I ain't the best either...
(What now?)