Still Mine Frank Ocean

[Verse 1]
Fuck it
If the cops pull us over
You tell 'em we far from sober, I pull the cab over
Ask 'em which way the store
'Cause I need me some clear I can mix with the soda
Maybe wrote me a ticket, I lean out my quarter, I call Makaveli
If I'm faking my death and you fake for a living
Who makes it to heaven?
If my children ask me where they come from
Should I tell them heaven or fucking?
Feel a kick on my bitch stomach
She look too slim to have a kid coming
We're way too young to have a kid coming
Way too in love to have a kid coming
I can't fuck you like I want (Want)
I can't fuck you like I want
Got my shit from my lil brother
Just got that from dollar tree
Bro wait on my therapist
I got some story, my nigga, I tell this shit
This way too much
Gotta let me develop (Let me develop, let me develop)
Tell 'em in a dark room
Best be a fifty and a pair of these jordans
And my auntie had a nigga in Edinburgh
We don't gotta see racks
Hidden in his foreyard, even got a foyer
Nigga, I don't even wanna live in California
On top of that, I lost a hard-on for it
And the soft spot for ya is the only soft spot on me
Hotel so boring
Ah, fuck, there's nothing to do
Nothing that's new
Nothing's new (Yeah)
I heard you got a new friend (Friend)
And a new whip, man
Both them shits used