Send me nudes, the purloined note between
E and G, you got lips that fake sigh but are music
and suffering pouts that men are blamed falling for
scream justice, I haven't even a snapchat
and photos and notes like these I don't tag
people in but I like this way best
I hear you got boy problems with some other guy
down in Tuscana sands, I hear some bitch is parenting
your kids and you never see them again
I hear you spend all your money on them
and time will tell if your car will ever be fixed again
you talk money only, your sly accent beckoning
me to come over but I know it's materials you want
