I’m sick I’ve got influenza, your girl remembers I influenced her
Gave her good gifts Christmas in December
I’m a parcel I delivered
Committed many sins god will forgive her
Moaning vibrations no cold shiver
She blows me like G force a long winter
Tricking boulevards no need to pimp her
She’s got a short fuse, microscopic temper
I don’t read letters return to sender
No need for the lectures manage time better
I’m hugging these clouds spitting out feathers
Because I fly high in turbulant weather
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