Don't compare me to my parents
My choices are my own
Cooked em up in my cauldron
That's where all my money's blown
And the potion made me do it
God damn, what was in it?
Your rapper boyfriend's tongue
And a carton of Popeye's spinach
Rep the borough and the Baltics
I tried to be the nicest
Leave me stuck in between
With an identity crisis
And I might just bite dust
Dick around and try to write up
A dollar for a date just to compliment my type but
You throw out that slut word, that's so old news
You boys are easier to use then my Velcro shoes
So who's coming to chill with me and caterpillar later?
Mix shews with the juice just to catch you gaters
You tater tots on my block
Don't throw like I thought
Talking 'bout your third eye like these rap robots
And sorry Im done
I'm cocking my gun
Showing off and blowing shade cause its fun
So listen my son
Hold your tits when you run
Try to keep up
And don't cry when it's done
And I'm sweet
Maple syrup on the beat
Force feed you sass pancakes every day of the week
