PESSIMISTCOLLECTION Lyrics

Bitch, I don't wanna talk

I don't wanna crumble when I land in the fog

Rather write a haiku, waiting for the call

Shooting like it's high noon, scheming at the mall

With the Vans on lock, and the bitches right too

Give a fuck what you think, motherfucker I knew

And I'm sipping on pink, with a highlight blue

Bitch tripping on me, I ain't hitting on you

I ain't really seen through it

Count a couple bans, and my brain turned fluid

Throwing up for gram with ya hands, don't do it

Prudent of the Sam, don't have no student

Seeing where I'm at, just to brag, that shit don't make you the man

Feeling whack, throw my vision to the sand

Where my plan? Going mad, scoping bitches that I had

Word to mac, where the tab. got me spitting Taliban

Wearing off, times up, throw his ass in the van

Bitch, I don't wanna talk

I don't wanna crumble when I land in the fog

Rather write a haiku, waiting for the call

Shooting like it's high noon, scheming at the mall

With the Vans on lock, and the bitches right too

Give a fuck what you think, motherfucker I knew

And I'm sipping on pink, with a highlight blue

Bitch tripping on me, I ain't hitting on you