ideas

I love ideas

I love the concept of concepts

Give or take on executions

They call me and my niggas bomb threats

Three in my cup keep me stuck like an object

You sip on sweet fentanyl that why you nauseous

I'm just tryna turn my stream of conscious to a profit

I'm just tryna turn my former self into a prophet

I'm gon get a grammy talking nonsense

I'm gon touch a milly saying the first thing that come to my head

Remember sleeping with a knife in my bed

And tying hoodie strings so bitches couldn't touch on my neck