PIMP

**All Hours of the Night That range of time is too random to be alone in the dark with yourself It's the loneliest time to think you over because like the sweetest stanza of the prettiest poem no one will ever read; we were pointless If I can recall you said so yourself My faith in the possibility had been exhausted My heart... I've since changed the lock with no bother about a spare key Sounds like some slick shit a poet assigned to you would say I found a reasoning you should try yourself... I trust nothing; I know me too well to believe I can talk myself into getting over you You must be proud of yourself the way you get all up in me right under my nose My defenses though... just in case My personality splits All Hours of the Night I captain this hook and refuse to pardon heartbreakers with three strikes at love I rob in the hood I'll take everyone for everything and give anything I can get away with to you Those are my instincts There's nowhere to go to get around yourself I work like a fool but when the struggle rises above my head I learn to swim again What's a synonym for dope boy Started as a runner Stick up kids out to tax when bust your gun is all you've got going for yourself Around and around and I hate that I love your badside All Hours of the Night By the rim of your ears and nape of your neck To the point of your breasts and past your belly's button Until my mouth found your flower's fruit and sipped its juice; Until your sex was trickling down my chin I wanna lick you senseless Imagine that... I thought you were ready but knew about the clause in your description denouncing heavy lifting And our love was like dead weight back when At least there's that... I'd have to eat the blame one way or the other I've seen you zing it from your index finger at everyone but yourself You ain't for this life A mountain lion would knaw off it's leg to escape capture... Is that a chill or a phantom sensation All Hours of the Night You were on some other shit yourself The way you captained this hook and made me wanna pardon heartbreakers with three strikes at love Those are your instincts; Never trick where you lay your head Keep your family close and your haters closer Improve yourself Progress Prevail And money before good dick Sounds like some slick shit a demon assigned to a poet would say in the condescending tone you've owned since the very first frame I found a reasoning you should try yourself... I trust nothing You must be proud of yourself**

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