qp

My we race
Taste my guts, must
Sunshades on my face to shut these draws
That I gaze
Nike socks, there, the wings want a top
My head is not blacked out
, pressure, the box blocking
All week everything
Backpack one good strap
Ragtag bands, bland beanie cap
seats in the Cadillac
Ragtime, cop pig mask
Steering with a wheel wood wax
Alternate fabric, wig that’s cross stitch
Garage flow with old catch
Speakers match, in fact
All hill up, everything
Even the white wall, white widow
Willy wonka in the whip, that willow
Tonka truck, turn up back in fields
And mow rows in columns
That fit in your ear hole
Create a place you can take a career more
In the mirror with the gears
Fire walk around here with the —
Woah, woah, woah, woah
What you gonna do?
It’s a wild time, what you gonna do?
Pussy nigga gonna do?
It’s your wrong time, what you gonna do?
cruising, you?
Snoozing, you?
The damages, who’s mans is this?
I ain’t the type to hate but, uh
The fuck (are you serious)
Can’t be serious (no)
I don’t want to come back
You get it ready first time (one time)
Get it ready right now
Get a rental right now
Get it, my time
Qp
(That hill goes down) You feel
Qp
You know this shit is real
It fills (everything)
The void (organics)
Get with it
(Y'all know what the fuck to do)
You know it is (the ocean bitch)
The way it is ()
Make that wave
The cameras (which one)
The damages
Who mans is this?