To pimp a butterfly
I used to love H.E.R.
Did I stutter, guy?
But did I really love her?
We meant the world to each other
See I want to be a writer, but I’m scared I suck
Which in turn hurt because that was my version of love
You serious? I’m hideous
But I’m down with O.P.P
Though you don’t know me
But do I look like a mind reader, sir? I don’t know…
And you’re shook, a halfway crook
A phony, a fake
You 36 in a Karate Class?
Whoa… Is that a black card?
Rose and wrappers affairs I maintain
Hoping after there’s laughter and no more pain
And I did it my way sitting sideways
And one more thing: R.I.P. Freestyle Friday