Outline of a ghost where I used to keep hope

Now it’s mold on the bread soul standing in a 3 person coat, numb like novocaine scribbled my ideas like a bad joke

Acting like what I said bothers n I give a fuck bro no

Mademoiselle come to my place so we can rekindle

She pulls her hands back away like a cocked pistol, I’m just tryna handover some good cock don’t pull the trigger on this op cuz my words are like a verbiage missile

I’m not entitled I just wanted what you want, and maybe what you want is what I wantеd on the spot, and if it’s not than we can change thе subject to a different plot, cuz you get me all woozy baby girl you get me hot

Close the curtains call the encore it’s an Aug, my setlist only has around like 5 to 7 songs, and maybe I can bribe you with my credit card for top, but I go back on stage in 3 minutes so cmon

You tell me that your thinking what I’m thinkings kinda odd, you tell me to confess and go present my sins to God, I told you that I’m done and you say it’s not enough, drive away inside the tour bus while I’m finishing the job

I ain't talked to you in weeks-I gotta get a fleet, and of course my advances ain’t been working so I take the seat

I tell you I’ve been praying but you know my nose grows

You leave me on delivered when I know you on the phone

If you don’t want me then I sorta got the message, we’re in different stages I’m on tour and you’re perfection, finally get a text and you say it’s for reflection, then yoy block my number where I directed all my questions

Still I don’t give a fuck I roll me another red

I stumble from the kitchen with a bottle straight to bed

I’m rolling down the window and I’m shouting things you said

I fall sleep around 3 and then wake up at 3 pm

A Bible in my drawer must’ve left it when you left, I look at for a second and then shove it in my desk, a near death experience couldn’t get me to the blessed, throw it away for all I care I won’t stress, but if it comes back to haunt me it’s you that failed the test

I feel like my own God, own owner own fraud

Don’t compare me to lord cuz I’m one step under jah

He is really real and acknowledged his son

More so a protégée cuz ill do all that he’s done

And more, that’s amoré, a pataboré, intricate with my steps call me a God of ballet, throw the keys to the rari at the feet of valet, the sky looks down at me and blows a kiss while I drive away