'boxed' (Instrumental)

Collection 1.1 - actuality.
track 05.- boxed.

prod. By Blū Tha Gürū

Listen—

—motherfucker—

You should—

Know—

I don't —

—give—

No

—kind of—

—fuck—

Whatsoever

I love my own

—but not the other

Something - something son

Get a gun and blow my candles out

White power now bout

Building towers up

To tear you down

—I don't give a fuck about flax seek

Black seed, back seat black candles

Black cat, relax,

Atticus.

I don't give a fuck about a Fallon,

I bought a gallon of water for two jugs,

And a quarter

On my daughter.

Get it?

(Fuck you)

Or should I go back to spending

Spin class looking at candid camera

I could buy a mountain before I sit down on mounds

White Diamonds, 9 time champ

I'm just like ET, don't mind that

I'm a dead beat dad camped out in a van

With a 30 second tan on, oh man

Redact that one

—FUCK—

YOU.

Power play

I should wait an hour

For the Amazon van

If the Amazon man can hit this

What makes you think you can

I just too fan

I drew fandoms on your

Blū Barrymore,

Don't carry that backpack,

You might fall back

I called my song

—but I can't call back

…fuck you,

(Goddamn)

If you don't believe me,

I just scored two degrees

Just from pleasing people

Three of you count me,

My MBA in saying

I buy NBA team

Damn.

Can't even get an Instagram account

Without getting hacked

Just for being a half black

Half Uncle Sam smashing red/*ted man

Don't call red man,

Just call Meth/ Seth back

METHOD MAN

…hello?

Flip the bitch right back

I flip the whip

And grip the script,

I pistol whipped Bristol back

To — camp

{Enter The Multiverse}

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