text: Oh, I dont need the metronome, bro
  Ayy
  Kahn-da-muh duh-cay
  When you wanna be, ahh
  When you eat all the cheese
  In the store, in the store, in the store
  In the store, yeah, yeah yeah
  Alright
  She lives next door
  To the store that I loiter at
  We talk every night, she cry to me about her guy
  And if we text I get pissed when I get no reply
  I know that shes the key to love
  She is who Im thinking of when I am beating Richard up
  To mental images—her face look
  The closest that I got was when Im poking her on Facebook
  Video chats are so exciting
  Cause its like she is inviting me to her world full of privacy
  Im getting gassed up, I think shes liking me
  Shes gullible and I just wanna take it like a pirate 
  I see her in class
  Not really, two doors down, but anytime that I pass
  To take a piss in a stall, I picture us in the hall
  Locking lips on the wall, her hand grabbing my dick
  My left hand on her tits, ah, my shits getting hard
  From thoughts of dating this bitch
  Her name is my password
  Fuck
  All my niggas got they bitches and stuff
  But all the bitches they fuck are known as bitches and sluts
  And shes special, I know to yall, I come off as rough
  But Im the nicest to her, and I just want to concur
  A relation: I want the cheesy dates at the movies
  And stupid walks at the beach, and sharing straws in a cup
  I never had that, so when we holding hands walking home
  I look past that, the fact that shes fucking guys that I hate, but
  Things are looking great, cut copy
  Last time we talked, she said that her relationship was rocky 
  Now that Mr. Faggots gone, theres no one that can stop me
  From bagging her, I got these tickets to the Roxy
  Next day, metros taking me home
  I see her in the cut at Wendys; shes not alone 
  Whos that guy? Wait, why the fuck he bout to kiss her? 
  Come to find out she got back with her nigga
  Fuck
  Another one
  Its not the first time
  Shes so pretty
  Fuck self-pity, I feel so shitty
  I wanna text her in a jealous rage
  But if she reply to say anything, Ima smile, I know
  What do I do with myself?
  Sit in my room for some days?
  Play Xbox with piles full of wet socks? Fuck that
  My nigga ask, Ace, what happened to such-and-such?
  I could slander her name, and then tell him I probably fucked 
  Or I could tell him the truth and just say she aint like me much
  But instead, I lie and say she moved to Nebraska
  But shes not mine