tore the pages out During all the painful parts Eleven to your seven You held out Carrying your diary around Angry ink came rushing out Eleven to your seven
As I tore the pages out During all the painful parts Eleven to your seven You held out Carrying your diary around Angry ink came rushing out Eleven to your seven
front row, I ain't watchin' the fight I be in Street Port wit' my nigga, Bayday I be in airports wit' my fuckin' AK Four seven to eleven, one eight seven
Bitch lookin like some nialating Hey sunday morning 'round eleven robot erupting in the reveren I'll probably lose my hearing by the time I'm twenty-seven
