The clock is my existence, eighteen years is where im sittin
So if midnight is a hundred, then it's two twenty-six
N i've dated plenty chicks, had dimes that were pennyless
Rich bitches switchin wigs seekin pimps benefits.
Seems i've missed what's in front of me, darkness tinted my pupils
Been distracted by these industry hoes and loop holes,
These fake black woman, claim they want my brown skin
I write them songs n waste time better spent loungin
So we can fuck n then what? Im right back down again.

Yes, that kind of down where i'm not even satisfied
Fast forward sometime and now i've finally realized
That i don't even want this, derrr ima vanilla man
I rap n she blows...i mean sings, in accapella man.
Cover her in chocolate just so she can match the title
Since this black n white stereotype is o so vital.
Riiiight, whatever lock me up n call me a rebel
Bet i won't care cuz that's nothin compared to our
S and M fun, chains n metal, see im in cuffs every hour

.....so fuck it

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