....ehh

I would tell you that you weren't worth it....

But the alcohol wants me to lye...

So I tell you I aint shit....

& that it's OK for you to cry....

Granted that I'm still a shot under par...

I proceed to tales of how beautiful you are....

I'm setting my thoughts in motion....

As if they would move you to my car....

I gotta a charger with no cell...

My fam out on bail.....

& she missing punctuations...

like we missing court dates....

so I end my sentences with dollar signs to make sure my seed straight...

Dotting these eyes with X's & Oh's....

My mixed shawty take it by the whole...

& she ain't my side chick but she the half of my hole...

cause my other girl got a hold...

summer time heat...

but they love so cold....

So remain torn...

I'm just waiting for this seamstress to mend it all....

Then I'll place a call....

To the woman that always made cents....