Alley Oops

Bitch I'm next
I'm betting
Knocking tops off like sitcom settings
Im ready
Just beat the race like first off the pit at Andretti's
Nut on her face she don't want kids
But I'm petty
Confetti, confederate, confrontations
Asking me q's on celebrations
Like dude is that blood on your shirt
Or just sauce from spaghetti
He was a brother of mine
Didn't want to see em dead to me
So I turned the other cheek already
If I drink, who let me
Spill milk on the floor
I couldn't think so heavy
Then why you bring some more
Lost till the summit
Landed on this planet rock
It cost a lot of money
To try keep damage blocked
Stored up, more life
More love
Deception, acceptance
That realities gone
Replica souls tied to numbers
Who look at me wrong
Baffled
Gasping
Raffle
Basket
Picking names to see who stand up when its time to be strong
Lines of symmetric
Parallel parking
Im sick
Sick from this, Im sick of this
This is sick, Sick is this
Cars parked in my brain
A lot on my mind
Pot on my mind, Weed head
In a Skeez bed
I got two errands to run
No cheeseheads
On the deep threat
On the defense
On the deep in
On a deep end

Nigga he's dead
Nothing but a puppet
He's a mister meathead
Heart been shreds since he grew up motherless
Drop em off one day and don't come back till he big
Will he pursue gun play and wind up with a kid
Mentally he sick clutter all up in his head
Congested
All up in my face I fell contested
Dribble dribble turn around fo' I hit the basket
Nasty
I told you
Love is like a sprit bomb
Please give me your energy
Conflicted with these injuries
So why you turn yo back on me
Pack my trunks
And I'm changing my cell
Fucking with y'all niggas I'ma end up in jail
Had enough this shit
I need reciprocation
Gratitude for me is exempt
But yet I get it
Wrapped up in yo own shit
Like dealing with a Nigga that won't help you with yo business
It's no support
So where's the trust, don't see the love
Artificial? Is it based of finance
Or it's what the dick do
Hopping like a hot potato and you talking faithful
Bullshit
He got bitches that'll come and hit a full split

Off the hizzy
Off the glizzy
Off the backboard
I'm black, yeah
I need to be black more
Told mama I'm back
Said you need to be back more
Creeping out the back
You can hear the cracked floors

Momma said be honest is you smoking on the back porch
Fast forward
Still shy, Still awkward
Grandma expectation had a nigga at Harvard
Sponsored not white folks conquered