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mo' music - off lyrics

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i thought i loved you
i was wrong, they
try to complicate
things the wrong way

feel like i wanna run home like a ball game
my sh-t feels low man, oh d-mn i wrote down

a couple of words to express in a long way
feel so confused like don’t speak anglaise
missing sun rays, kissing on bae’s
cuz life feels so short on the long days

real sh-t people know they like more than my music yeah they feel it
in their system yeah they missing every beat i k!ll its
haunting me, cuz they all know what i long to be
mother f-cker rap for the h-ll of it, never gonna sell a bit of me
sell a repeat, celery

not making money that sh-t is funny
but i still spit h-lla heat
on their knees for phetamines
they fiends for the feta cheese

switch the flow up
making cake with no baking soda
cuz they snort it all, jesus christ
but everybody knows on the beat he’s nice

never gotta a feat cause they can’t keep up with me
they hate but say good luck to me
don’t f-ck with me
no cucking me
there’s no sh-t in the back that’s enough for me

cause my past won’t define my future
find the rhyme that suit you
everybody gotta mask on like a lucha-

doors open, hoes hoping i won’t make it, yes i will
feel like every lesson leave em guessing if the stress would k!ll

yes it would, feeling good’s not enough to take me down
i’ve been in the darkness for a while where can they take me now?

chorus:

girl, you know that i’ve been stressing lately
feel like everybody hate me
yeah they trynna f-cking take me off take me off no

man why they always trynna take me out
of the picture, you can take me now
yeah imma get you, you can thank me
how you think u ever gonna take me off?

verse 2:

rap real sh-t but feel basic
they want this but don’t say sh-t
get h-lla fazed when i face it
made 3k like racists

all my songs got a theme though
depression, life without mean though
rapping sh-t, so clean though
hold up mo what you mean though

when they put a knife to their wrist
they busy getting ice on their wrist
but sh-t when i fight i don’t miss no
nice flow, not his though
no cl-ss; got a sub like quiznos

cuz that sh-t blows
they miss mo
ain’t got no feat but he still go
cuz yeah “you got some silver wear but really are u eating though?”

shout out to gambino he know
every bar casino, kilo gottem on the d-low
getting green like he was ceelo

gotta dealer on the d-low make ’em wonder where did we go wrong
he don’t know where he go cause his ego is like that beatle song: get back

like marcelo he left back, his bars yellow, and part black
that’s rush hour
no time left i gotta rush, shower

and dip fast then bust louder
wanna have fun put a cuss counter
on one of they songs, man i lost count of it
already cause they steady man i must counter back

write back with a sick rap
i don’t fight back cuz your hits wack
and i’ll stay mo, never less
like the mountain, i won’t ever rest

like kit kat got 4 bars
like 7 said man i’m heaven sent
but i meant that sh-t when i said i’m next
there ain’t a chance a rapper would intercept

that’s no problem, stay all night, with the same drugs, then we smoke again
that’s chance songs but we dance on i’m a closed book with no opening

they go look they just poking in
they get shook when they poking him
took a week off and got a weak cough
now i’m right back and i’m focusing yuh



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