| I’m seeing ghosts
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| I talk to the paranormal, I’m a host
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| Mami in Ferragamo and she cultured
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| Moldin her pheromones like I could Coach her
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| C-c-c-cold I’m freeze, Burr
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| Smoking on golden leaves
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| I’m too lit, woe is me
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| On a ship overseas
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| And I’m doing yoga. |
| I’m a young yoda
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| I had the force since I was a jit
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| I keep my lane closed. |
| and keep my composure
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| Fuck with your nose you not in the clique
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| Nü Age a cosmic quartet from abyss
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| Me I been clocking more sex with my chick
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| Kinda obvi, my obsessions are clear
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| I look at myself see no reflections in mirrors
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| I’m dead
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| Now I’m on top with the clique
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| We might go shopping at Fifths
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| Juun.j, and Muji, and ILU up on me, Balenciagas for the kicks
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| I made it so that only my death make this shit end. |
| I gotta make ends meet
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| All my writing mad surreal but I never pretend. |
| so my psyche distinct
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| Uber Driver in the front
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| Taxi Ghost to my right
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| We left airport and caught that Uber pool around 10: 33 at night
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| Felt like the acid kicked in overdrive
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| She morphed into water right before my eyes
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| I eel in love the terror, the sight
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| But I know my anxiety will never be fine
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| Fuck it |