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  • Genre:Hip Hop & Rap
  • Year of Release:2023

Lyrics

Wouldn't you like to know, Weatherboy

Ay


Ella le gusta mis ojos, but don't want the title

Look good en los fotos, con ella es vital

Play music with no show, she keep her eyes closed

Judas with sold soul, but still my disciple


Ella dice soy loco, pero yo se que sabes

Con mi, ay, tengo dos dioses de aves

My freedom, I'm flying on beats when I'm writing

Me, I'm a zion, a beast in the night an'


When she calls me, she don't call me Rayn

Mix the songs and she listens for her name

Piss her off, fix it, resolvin' the pain

Get involved in shit, involved I'ma stay


She don't always get me, I say translation error

Feelin' all the good things, unite mind states and stay in there

Pillow-talking and we remain, uh, patient and fairer

Still, I got her in sync, communicate with vacant stares


I don't be posting my putas

I don't do nothing stupid

I have it close when I'm movin'

En zapatos, I'm a shoe-in


Rap on a track and I'm torn, ay

Cash I'm stacking some more, ay

Pero quiero mis flores

Dinero Es Mejor Que Amores


Lluvia trabajando en la noche, ay

Move up, now I'm on beats with a gold chain, ay

Maneuver like a John Doe with no name, ay

[Redacted] aun tiene mi corazon, ay


No me importa si solo quiero follar

Any port in a storm, huh? Forgetting my heart

Nobody forced it, but still we are wrong

Falling in towards lust and still give a fuck


Pills that I'm on, is this for real what I want?

Fulfill my love lost for a thrill and move on

Growing a Rose is a thorn in my side

Ghost all my hoes, or ignoring my wife


Was starving, no fins, I had to draw some

An artist homeless, had Jack but DAWs, son

I market and mix, my passion on one

The farther I get, more I lack oxygen


I don't be posting my putas

I don't do nothing stupid

I have it close when I'm movin'

En zapatos, I'm a shoe-in


Rap on a track and I'm torn, ay

Cash I'm stacking some more, ay

Pero quiero mis flores

Dinero Es Mejor Que Amores


I'm sitting in bed, in my mind I'm tortured

Quick with my pen, her eyes flick to my hands

I scribble in lead, what I'm writing, of course, is

Private endorsements of my spilling organs


I get out of bed, lay a kiss on her head

Get my mic to record it, breathe life in and force it

Play the kick drums and then, when I get done my set

Revisit my texts and listen for stress


But the stress doesn't change 'cause I'm still insecure

I'm a mess, by my age, should build up, have more

Maybe death comes today, visions reveal I was warned

I feel breath on my face, I can heal from the warmth


I know she loves me, but I start to feel the distance

I'm broke and lusting, it's hard to tell the difference

she knows that it bugs me, she pardons, her forgiveness

Emotionally fucks me, I'm on guard and defensive


I learned about love from my parents and TV

Hurting, doubt, no trust, the marriage that I see

Burdens, loud, cussing, and embarrassing for me

Or perfect, wow, fun, I'm sharing everything


So the first girlfriend I had, we were toxic to each other

Our perfect vision lacked, I had her boxed in how I wanted

And her missing her dad, not even talking to her mother

Maybe furthered her attraction to stay blocking with no button


To catch her in the act of fucking had plannin'

Trying to get back at these sluts so I could manage

The fact that I was too young, they took advantage

So when I interact with love, I flashback to damage


I mean I was molested when I was just a kid

Fuck it, I'm stressed, man, the fucked-up shit I did

As I was progressing and working through my shit

Prob'ly affecting the people I was with


Where does the blame fall for kids working through their issues?

On parents? Is it their fault? You always want them with you?

On me? Is it Rayn's problems that I solo had to get through?

TV cause it's fake, all the communications that they skipped through?


I should name drop my abuser cause he fucked with child, huh?

Put a page on my computer with his numbers, say dial up?

His face and location to get justice through a trial, huh?

Shame me for not saying, but he was younger than I was


I was in 3rd grade, molested, shit had me, suicidal

He was in 1st grade, knew expressions, cum, titties, vagina

Don't know if he remembers, maybe blocked for survival

As far as how to address it, how the fuck should you or I know?

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