Homie
Letterman to my ankles, spoken word trait
Occur when I make reign, entwined with my mate
Or did it occur to you, I’d always be straight
Setting up my bombs, where you rely on plates
Eager to write a story, a lot on my plate
Groceries in the trunk, I always stay up late
Ripping apart baggage, she carry a little hate
Interview with a vampire, I’ll see you at my wake
Puppet master, hold tight, king me, checkmate















