i want the world to C the BS finna step into the shoes of the late great don hewitt and put the years of ‘tell me a story’ poetry into sixty minutes haven’t started producing it yet but it’s all good i hAve a LiL’ BiT of TiMe or maybe my dad was right all along and i don’t and believing that i do is the problem i undermind back in college, dying wasn’t a worry of mine now death towers in my head, it’s a real asset something has to bring value to the empty goals i set i have no real identity outside of working to raise my worth which can’t net anything worth having on this earth i’m holding a king of isolation and a nine of doubt luv sucks, modern luv affair, and luvxury were the flop but my mind’s made up, i’m all in before i see the turn i already done gambled myself into a mountain of hurt so dealer, please just show: quit job and a milly there’s a fresh start and an unravaged heart in the desert for me, the joker the card that everyone remembers to throw out

my hourly wage doesn't even match my age...smh

no music in the car when we're together i only wanna hear you boo