Doomsday

I count my money on Thursdays
I send her cash like a bouquet
I treat my days like they doomsday
We pass the blunt, it's a relay

I count my money on Thursdays
I send her cash like a bouquet
I treat my days like they doomsday
We pass the blunt, it's a relay

So many been waiting on my downfall
It's funny cause they even love more
Just focus on money and make more
I go for shopping and close stores
I manifest and I pray more
I treat my pants like it's autumn
When she show me tits and her bottoms
I can't believe they killed Pop Smoke
So I woo and drill on pop shows
There's nothing I love like a negro
Said that I'm black with no sorrow
Play with her clit like a console
I make them cum and I snatch souls
I see my people malnourished
One day their lives will be polished
I sip on henny and vomit
My heart is heavy and morbid
Maybe the drugs will stop it
They took their lives for profit
I sit in the dark and I think more
I listen to Gunna and J. Cole
I got my weed and my bible
I hate on people who are entitled

I count my money on Thursdays
I send her cash like a bouquet
I treat my days like they doomsday
We pass the blunt, it's a relay

I count my money on Thursdays
I send her cash like a bouquet
I treat my days like they doomsday
We pass the blunt, it's a relay

She took a walk with my third leg
Before me her walls were stagnant
Now she make it rain, it's perfect
She sent me a text, she's pregnant
She's foreign so I like her accent
I gave her a baby as a present
I told her my Father was absent
So probably I could have been a mistake
I could be my father or different
I won't say I'm good or bad either
I lay the pipe like a plumber
She's healthy I gave her a cucumber

I count my money on Thursdays
I send her cash like a bouquet
I treat my days like they doomsday
We pass the blunt, it's a relay

I count my money on Thursdays
I send her cash like a bouquet
I treat my days like they doomsday
We pass the blunt, it's a relay



Credits
Writer(s): Ibongwe Sidlova
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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