The floozy type always wanna be the bourgeois type

The type a reason why girls can't be friends in any season

'Cause they pussy way past seasoned

And they find it mo' pleasin' to turn they insecurities into hurtful words to break through the securities of other females

Can't we all jus love each other?

Instead a lovin' the retail

Or the gossip and details?

Y'all make me wanna apologize to those that've been hurt by ur deceit where

you've attempted to put those you don't like in contempt but

failed in ya own defeat.

Keepin' tabs like a receipt on those who've hurt you

And what's worse is that you put ya ego in first instead a

Tryn'a better yaself

carin' too much 'bout how you appear to someone else

And not choose up on those that you love and love you

for what that boy got under his belt.

Sayin' those constant lies

Refraining from living a life that's so

Maintained through self gratitude and

False attitude enough to resemble true intellect yet

It neglects to fulfill the definition of trill (quote on quote).

Neva' fits to lay the description but the prescription to her ailment has her usin her heart like a payment.

Consider this the

Pains of a young dame feelin deranged

Intuitive glances that surpass the mundane

But you end up just bein' a simple-minded lame.