[Verse]
Album an autobiography, my composition is written too awkwardly
Ain't really popular, I'm forbidden really feeling like Socrates
Poverty remains in monopoly
Probably turn an obstacle obsolete
Silence for channeling my energies properly

Properly, Properly
Properly, Properly

Illustrate a story, gliding my diphthongs
I'm singing in tune to my shit songs
Fingers tingling a little
Fucking fiddling with riddles
Finger linger in my bitch thongs

Deliberately fumbling and stumbling in pitfalls
I don’t need a label opinion
To tell me my fucking EP limit up to six songs
Even though my mind is a prison
I might just silently diminish these brick walls

Silly sally sunshine, skipping in sundresses
She sing songs
My mind liberated by my cousin, it's a fam thing dawg
Banging my chest like an ape, aggravated
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