Raindrop, droptop… cooking up these rhymes in a crockpot,
refuse to kiss and betray like Iscariot
lie to myself like “she’s a thot.”
thick thots make me do trick shots
trick shots, fade-away, stay away from that player hate
laugh as more money goes in the bank.
Like Rick Ross, the big Boss,
grill always on don’t need to floss
lyrics flow so smooth like Bob Ross
Had ya with one stroke call it first blood,
yet I’m still chasing like Elmer Fudd.
My heart’s thud,
hurts with dread,
pounding so hard to this beat in my head.
Head too filled, can’t be led.
Do not resuscitate, leave me for dead.
There’s always this weird period when classes first start where I feel like I should study, but there isn’t enough material to really work with yet. Pretty sure taking a meme too far was an appropriate use of my time.