Thought about my ex today.
Reminisced about the *** and such.
I know I said that I'd still love that girl,
But Lord knows I've never lied so much.
My ex girl is a good dream about a bad time that I mistakenly got away from.
My ex girl is a good dream about a good **** that could one day ***.
My ex girl is a bad *****, with the thick hips and the *** to match, lips that softly slip so sweet with every kiss; I loved that.
My ex girl has that pretty face that makes necks break and men chase and she knows it.
My ex girl is a flirt and knows I want her bad and she shows it.
She looks at me so deep and sneaks through to my conscience and can switch it off so quick.
My ex girl got the magic; she could make you quiver in just one lick.
My ex girl could get it.
But I can't **** wit it.

My ex girl ain't wife type.
And I'm at that point in life where I'm tryna live that wife life.
So she could be bad all she want and it's sad she don't want that wife hype.
She could be so good but she's bad at being honest; more concerned with "likes" than love.
More concerned with quick *** and rec drugs.
**** gonna catch up to her one day and she'll learn that she should've used that beauty on the runway.
But I'm done bae, no matter how amusingly your beauty continues enthusing me.
But you slept while you couldn't be working to be the One bae.
Done.