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letra de grimey or something - stay-at-home fad

[hook]
i love you
please bring my money on time
you don’t want the grime

[verse 1: themba ntaka]
fifty cents for my cigarette, a cookie’s no better
i’ll evanesce like smoke before i fall like sh-t
people judge me like i got smoker’s breath at the addiction ceremony
as if i spread bologna to kids
now you’re on your own, boy
homeboy topple tracks
but since i’m not home i don’t dress up in the reference
i’m alone girl, pick up your phone
and tennis b-lls don’t ever make a goal so he’s bouncing off the walls
refusal of flaccid handshakes from those who work like fake acid to rip n-ggas off
mad nuts i gaze at who want the sky to fall and place blame on the wrong rival

[hook]
i love you
please bring my money on time
you don’t want the grime
i know a prost-tute who goes natural
she’s down to earth about whatever she does, she gotta bring that money on time

- stay at home fad

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