The Point

Right off the rippy I need some tippy top
Just give me three Mississippi, I’ll get the city hot
The bigger the sucker, the bigger shit he pop
And I’m still at your bitch’s crib for a pity stop
Your man crush bragging about how lit he got
And that’s not a selfie, bitch that’s a titty shot
Miss Piggy, I’m loving the way you diddy bop
You get the point
Margaritas at Margaritas, the tacos coming
Don’t even lick on my dick if you ain’t gone swallow nuttin'
You make me sick, the shit you do for a Follow button
That’s a hollow stomach… I don’t know how you stomach
I still pay for decisions made in 2009
The system hopes I decline, Susan says I’ll be fine
I’d rather waste energy than my time
Pussy, you still pretend to be on your grind
Smoke like a hippy, sipping my sippy cup
Bitch I just need a quickie, get me my pick-me-up
Dick in my belt, keeping my stiffy tucked
I still get a rush off the work, I’m never busy enough
I’ll know that it’s love whenever it isn’t lust
I’ve watched how you’ve played your cards when I didn’t bluff
I listened up, the goose, I ain’t no sitting duck
You get the point