lyrics
Solid writing on the wall, Vesey is your friend, Strauss.
Bridesmaid to the people even when they shed a misnomer in Laos.
Donning her pink blouse, Captain Murphy to the right of me spotting sinkers.
Throwing alleyoopers to the Clippers sneakers dekeing out of rinkydinkers.
Tattle tattle as the snake's rattle, I'm just one voice on the microphone.
To a group of adults, I'd be a clarinet in a group dominated by sousaphone.
You never live to think about my words when I'm beating off all alone.
I make up my own S.O. and cry into their shoulders when I'm G.O. gone.
Brick City made me, a hundred miles away from where the struggle is.
Middle class repertoire but I feel older at sixteen than Top Cat with his dot biz.
Struggling to monopolize an enterprise with the fly skeetscattering out my wallet.
Molly the Great berate the common fate to necessitate DeDeDe's mallet.
I'm living the high life, hating every minute.
Dresher said I was mad decent, but I bet he'll never see me in it.
That's word to my brothers and sisters back in their homestead.
My mother hates me religiously, so I got Mary to be one instead.
Learning to rock mics in 3D, fifty to seize a style, bet Molly freed me.
Some say I'm a romantic, but to live for a love seed, I'll never see.
To be my true Sweetness, you're down by me; SWEETIE
Bet you never heard a cheerleader chant get incanted in my A.E.
Check the check card and check my new balance, money not the sneakers.
I excel hell through new packs, Jenny Death blasting out my speakers.
But Vess you're not a fam man? Never been a true man, never been a Persian.
I'm a feeble minded cousin from the deserts of Vegas – rugs all aversion.
Smugs all diversion – snubs all immersion – rubs all submersion.
My life is down again, so I broke fifty with a new version.
Referred to as an engagement of strange love, with the pseudonym Strangelove.
A Nostradamus next to a copy of Illmatic, wondering which will fall above.
A special shoutout to Doc P – I'll make it through your lesson, thanks for not doubtin' me.
Another one for Juli, Doge, and the Fab Four.
How's it looking out in Monmouth with the new score?
I could've taken my life a week ago, but I panicked when my knife dared show.
XCX or DMX – call me chronic. Speedin' through excuses as if my name were Sonic, so.
I wave my hands to the off beats, shake my head to reason.
You could say I hate the limelight, but I bet it's just the season.
Molly Hailey is a rock star, Facendo joined my legion.
Don't bring the endo in the Enzo or my lean will seep adhesion.
All jokes – I never sink to swim in purple moats.
Have a couple excuses left for reasons why I brought some boats.
I didn't mean to stay alive, supposed to die in ninth grade.
Now everybody wants to celebrate my life at the May Day Parade.
I could dress like I'm supposed to, but how is being cis a cherade?
Could cheer how I'm queer but the kids already HipHipHoorayed.
MF Vesey being thrown in again for round two without sufficient electrolytes.
Cut her off the speaker and make sure the choir never hears her sound bytes.
I thought I met a stellar stud just the other day – life bites.
Turns out he's a perverted brother who gets his jollies off to boys in gym tights.
Who's to judge the game with the gavel? It's Madam VS with a neuroticnatal.
Hated since the cradle rocked back and forth as I sallyforthed to stardom fatal.
Catch me on the cover of one of Aesop's fables.
I would jump tomorrow, but I'd probably end up using bungee cables.
Tables never turning, the school's ready to begin learning.
They loved my Lamar impression, so will they love me when I'm yearning.
Plan to wear my name on my heart sleeve.
Being called a brother ever again will be my pet peeve.
My brother will never know the difference between my feminine prevalence.
He hits my parents on the down low, but they'll never know his benevolence.
Vesey born dead the same way you dream about all the presidents.
From Harrison to Kennedy, ennui and French nomenclature for evidence.
You think you love my flows now, wait until I'm up at batter.
Every time I hit the mic murderous, rancorous will always be the latter.
Hailey as the olive chaser, swerving off my median racing with the Mad Hatter.
Another key for me, I'm locked in, swervin' to Rakim, while my chest stays flatter.
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