Undone

[Verse 1] My father came over, tapped me and woke me up Gave him his birthday card, we argued and he left I called my boss today to see what time I work I never showed up cause it ain't worth the stress She says she love me, I just think she love the sex Either that or she just wanna get over her ex Now my favorite song saying "Fuck the world" I laid off the sess, I need a cigarette Cigarette ci-ci-cigarette ci-ci-cigarette I ain't tryna kill myself I need a cigarette ci-ci-cigarette ci-ci-cigarette No, I don't give a fuck about my health The devil on my shoulder saying "You brought this on yourself" And with no cure, you surely will bring you to your knees So what the fuck you need nigga, what you need? Hopefully shit don't come along, fuck my money up Bad bitches with them tummy tucks How much you wanna bet that I go grab her butt I spent all this on a date, and I ain't even fuck (fuck) Question your motives, halt your motors And I admit that I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing Dressing in Chimpanzee clothing, loathing X-X I'm rolling, Z-Z I'm sleeping G-O-O-D evening [Hook: Approximately 16 measures with melodic Ha/ah's] [Verse 2] Why won't they just let me be great? Ah, these motherfuckers rather watch and hate Ah, while I'm up here in this podium Nigga watch your sodium They swear they 'bout it, well so is me, and so is them So I move towards them, bitch I'm going to war with them You can end up on the floor with them, if you don't move (Truce) Hold your horses, carriage for the marriage But who caring for them parents, when the children grow What the fuck am I talking 'bout? Same shit I walk about Last time I walked the talk, I had to fucking go without Uh, no collateral They ask me where the ladder at to climb up to the roof And I tell them the truth, and tell them that I kick from under And they wonder why I'm swimming in this thunder Not getting burned, motherfuckers can't wonder or even fathom How I'm with them feathers, bad bitch named Heather I'm rambling they gambling and scrambling to catch up No mustard, I must start soon And my typhoon will sweep them all up right up under the rug I know I tend to bug with every verse that I spit And every time I hit a verse then it's R.I.P'd Acronym [Hook: Approximately 16 measures with melodic Ha/ah's]