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letra de are they real or plastic - high girlfriend

sometimes, i think it ain’t a rapper this pretty
i remember back, when the fabric didn’t fit me
they was telling me it’s whack
had no static in my city
i’m a brat now, plastic in my titties
and the ass bounce
sinking when i sat down
lashed up
calling me a catfish, that’s fun
these cats live in captions
backflip for reactions
accent is an act
you ain’t from where kodak from
in fact, you your dad’s son
and lap from the fountain
that wound in your lap, son
you talk, like it’s top gun
we bound to be mad
when we’ve found it’s a prop gun
you talk like you wouldn’t be a cop, if it was ’91
it’s 911, when it’s shots, but your nine dumb
i ain’t think you’ve fired one
if you are not a liar, you rap like you have a wire on
where is that desire from?
acting like the sky is simply widened for ’em
fact, it’s where i am from
kind of, um
when i fell from heaven, i held within my iron lungs
caught the television
now, i’m in love
guess i fell a victim to the blindest luck
sometimes, the timing just spiritual
it used to be the mirror, i was fearing most
leaving the mystique, for a clearer coat
screaming in the streets, i was hearing notes
least, when i bleed, i am here in quotes
least, i am pure as snow
that’s 8, somethin’ spherical
my face like i’m vera though
here, and so
sometimes, i think it ain’t a rapper this pretty
i remember back, when the fabric didn’t fit me
they was telling me it’s whack
no static in my city
i’m a brat now, plastic in my titties
f-ck is flat now?
they all wanna ask why
f-ck you, motherf-cker, that’s why
it’s not to f-ck you, trust me, i don’t ask guys
i been in love a few times
now i’m mad tired
so now i’m loving you like it was the last time
not to be confused with the last time
not be consumed, or exhumed from a past life
model me a muse, for your mad mind
probably amused, i’m a sag sign
caught me in a groove, let the cash fly
motherf-ckers knew when i passed by
cool b-tch
you better act right, baby
honey with me too, because that’s my baby
if y’all the boys, why y’all act like ladies?
crying on my page, all your past time hating
i cry when a bad b-tch pass by skating
rappers fly private, like, “we just passed haiti!”
that is not a flex, what the f-ck, that’s crazy
and everybody just love that lately
after rent, i can get a bus pass, maybe
but that’s if i didn’t puff that hazy
one pack later, now i’m on track 80
i know you a chaser, you compare me to mulvaney
staring at the ceiling, it was scary where it’d take me
barely in my 20’s, and i’m tearing through this money
like i’m carrie, and i’m covered
i don’t care when it get bl–dy
air ’em out, and now i’m running
either fear, or wanna f-ck me
it’s a miracle, they love me
you don’t hear it, when they’re coming
all my life, for the overnight
one long, sober night
hoes like, “open wide,”
wait– no, i’m right
i must go over lines
i ain’t like most them guys
well, no, they lied
covering up a whole lot of hoe inside
so it goes
they should go decide, or revoke the title
either way, you know it’s mine
this flow, they notice mine
when motherf-ckers don’t know, it’s fine
they gon know in time
i’m the coldest alive
white boys, all they know is slime
why you throwing signs?
just throwing on disguise
it’s what the song title implies

- high girlfriend

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