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issa rae - mir blackwell lyrics

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[verse 1: mir blackwell]
uh, ain’t change the number, still can’t reach me
only change i’m chasing 3g, channel changing like a tv, too remote to ever see me
uber back and forth from work, i still got were*bear up on repeat
and the fans still in my mentions, over snippets i ain’t released
shao just dropped the eta
songs up in the back, i work with n*ggas i can’t even say
haters give me money off the songs that fans don’t even play
shawty hit my line, i got her wet before she see the waves, tryna be my issa rae
house out the city, the farthest from that
might hit a lap round the yard in the back
loving this cash, gave my heart to the rack
and the add is like adam, a garden attached
i make money off rap, i’m a target for that
get applause and a clap every bar that i snap
when you keep moving forward, it’s hard to look back
and the last verse i dropped is too far in the past
i keep on double texting, she came with triple d’s
i’m posting on the whip, so every pic’s initial d
and now they f*cking with the vision, they ain’t see initially
to hit the boof, i need the fee, i can not spit no sh*t for free
[verse 2: yayu]
whistle while i whip the work
eighty five on eighty five, we’ll see who hit the limit first
01 when i hit the earth, better ‘fore it’s getting worse
catch a p*ssy twitter lurking, turn him to a missing person, he gon’ need some different merch
k!ll a chicken, then we send ’em to churches
it’s different, we send ’em in he*rs*s
inumaki, i be spitting in curses
god talkin’ with the bushes i’m burnin’
nodding off to your hooks and your verses
draw and it’s lookin’ like curtains
you ain’t no pimp, you a simp and a virgin
young yay tryna skimp on a purchase
washed up, get ’em rinsed
celibate king, i ain’t leavin’ any prints
you rappin’, but i ain’t convinced
watch your six this summertime, call me vince
summertime, call me toro, many arms, call me goro
them bullets kickin’ like a burro
we dust ’em up like a churro
put ’em underneath the borough
that’s where i’m plannin’ to leave him
b*tch can not handle no defense
you switchin’ mans with the seasons
think i’m tryna be a phase, you tweakin’
geekin’, i got bigger things i’m seekin’
got a lot weighin’ me down
you just tryna be a reason
that’s an issue, i don’t need it
anger managed, grab a toy and i’m squeezin’
me and my boys in a meetin’
eagle on me, finna bow like a deacon
smoke exotic, puerto rican
mir sipping ’till he spinnin’ like mina
f*ck with him, we hit it screamin’
wonder what caliber we boutta feed you
he bite the toy like he t**thin’, ay!

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