I swear, I want her like niggas want a fresh pair of J’s

Decked in Obey, DGK, wagon hoppers from the Bay. But this attraction is anything but hype. Not a simple trend, her love is something I would wear for life.

On some deep shit, she’s a 10 on a scale and I’m not talkin’ about looks. Except her list of exes can fill a castle with crooks. They were just up for the hooks and I can read them like books, I swear..

But I don’t stand a chance. She’s so gifted, I did my research and on some groupie shit she gets me lifted, but I’m anything but large in her mind. She’s into boys with the fitted caps and the backpacks. The all whack, mack shit. That snapback hat rap shit.

But I’m about that boom bap rap shit. That phat cat clap rap, cap clowns on their nap shit. That get down on the mat shit. Yeah, that shit.

But it’s no shock, g. I’m lost, see. I just want to hold her tightly, but.. It’s likely that her last was a hypebeast. No shock dude that her next will be a bop, too.

All I want to do is lace my tongue so I can taste her soul. I want to grip my gums as I make her back snap. ‘Cause she’s a 10, a real gem, and I’m just trying to dig in her diamond supply. I’m not trying to spit game, I’m trying to spit fire. I want to be viewed higher, ‘cause she’s a star and I just want to converse - I just gotta chuck all these dudes to the side, but I can’t decide to even try for fear she won’t like me in just Levi’s. I want to reign supreme over her past guys, yeah I said it. I don’t have Vans but every step I take is authentic.

Not a trend setter but we can set trends together. I can’t promise her cheddar but I can promise her better.