Fu.

Fuck you bitch you're dead to me
Consider this your elegy
For endless infidelity
Your death would be like therapy
Like whoo! We finally even
My soul done got crushed to a million pieces
I turned to demon I'm plottin schemin
I hope that you're screaming when I choke life out of you
You callin I answer like who?
What do I look like a fool?
I must be
But let a nigga tell you what's going down
First off let me tape up your mouth
So you don't make a sound
When I stab you with my knife through your iris twice and twirl it 'round
Damn that's sinister isn't it
Dance on your grave yeah we finna go ignorant
Take all the insurance money and spend it
Cause I ain't been able to splurge in a minute



Credits
Writer(s): Jerraka Brown
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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