Sat, 11/01/2014 - 11:46 -- Atticus

Immaculately average yet I'm a savage kid

Ravaged by my Slavic sense of humor

I bet you heard the rumor

That your boy's bringing the cataclysmic rhythm to you like a tumor

I'm growing to my prime

Wine and dined, get in the fuckin line

Because I B-E-T that you won't catch up to me

Until its too late

By then I marked you off the list: elimidate


All them other niggas hate it but I fade the shit

I'd like to say I made it but I ain't that rich

I'm pushing through my life hard, little engine that could

Just wanna make it to the day when I can say that we good

Because all we do is dream it seems, for the better days

Who-Sa to the neigh-sayers, the doubters and the haters

I'm young forever pack my bags and dip on the wanna be players


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