Coming out of lust, disguised as love.
I’ve come close.
Touched mistrust, envisioning decisions,
old ****** positions, and bubble butts
The goings tough.
I’ve been known to get going.,
knowing not where to, the story keeps going.
I never stop roaming.

Rolling, another one up, writing with the homies.
Stories of ******* it up, and the tales of glory.
I’m exploring options that they’re ignoring.
It's like if you’re bare, you’re boring.
Snoozing and snoring.
O'hare deported my last ounce of care
this morning.
A fare afforded to the very important.
If you never heard of it, sit there and ignore it.

Business minded.
I found that, the more ground I gained, the faster the climb is.
In this winning climate, my ****** is still undefined.
My rhymes like, fill in the lines.
Ad-lib these mad libs, to be killing the time.
I’m not feeling the times.
It’s like sit still or rewind,
straight chillin behind.
Cheap thrills, and refills
for the pills that I find.
Never ending cyclical vibes
Living the how, I got sick of the why’s,
and living with doubt.
Life is an imperfect present,
so I’m presently living it out.
I’ve earned where I am
so how can I go
giving it out, now?