INTRO
[voicemail audio]
HOOK
No, I ain’t got animosity
You know the money ain’t a loss for me
You ain’t shit, ain’t the boss of me
Ain’t in church, so you ain’t crossing me
VERSE ONE
I ain’t the one with the problem,
you’re the one hollerin’
I’m bullshit intolerant
What problem can I probably
Solve with this solvent?
Ain’t redacted no document,
I archived our content,
Every contract and comment,
Won’t delete a receipt,
Your defeat will be prominent!
You wanted lawyers involved?
Well, I’m already on it.
In jail again, you’re-in (urine)
So often,
I call it incontinent…
This deposition’s a sonnet.
A flask in my hand,
Spittin’ this damn random anthem
Drinkin’ and drivin’ in tandem,
I’m amassin’ a fandom
Driven like gas in the phantom,
I need one more aspirin,
Bars crammed on a napkin,
Cars crash and,
You eat while I’m
Trapped in a famine,
Call me the fodder,
But I ain’t the cannon,
I don’t give a damn-when
I’m being off brand
And I don’t understand,
how I’m getting hotter
Surrounded by fans!
Palming volumes of Valium
I’m drawin a crowd-in,
Show at the Bellagio,
I fall in a fountain,
I’m down and they’re countin,
Their fists up and pounding,
“Too slow” like adagio,
Get with the drowning!
HOOK
No, I ain’t got animosity
You know the money ain’t a loss for me
You ain’t shit, ain’t the boss of me
Ain’t in church, so you ain’t crossing me
VERSE TWO
I ain’t the one being violent,
But go on and try it,
I ain’t staying silent,
Promised me pitchfork,
But I got a trident
You wanna burn me, but,
I bring the hydrant,
You’ve been the tyrant!
You stay at the Hyatt,
And I can’t pay my-rent,
Ask you for my split,
And accuse me of entitlement.
But I ain’t the one with the loft,
This is kick-off,
Arm(ed) to the teeth,
Like you got a sick cough
I’m sharp as a tack, dawg,
Like an attack dog,
You better flee (flea),
Cuz I’m ticked off, so back off! I got receipts,
Sheets on a back log,
You ain’t seeing through the trees to me,
Like a back log!
When you speak it’s just perjury,
Cut deep like you’re in surgery,
The judge gives you the third degree,
Burn you, it’s a third degree.
If bull was taught in school,
Then you’d probably earn a P H D. That means ‘piled high and deep’
Congrats cuz that’s your third degree!
I guess I’m learnin’ a lesson,
In how to spot a fraud,
Who only talks out his rectum,
I wreck you in court,
And then nod like “you’re welcome.”
Well I digress,
I’m a hard pill to swallow,
Even harder to digest.
Put you behind a-bar like Pablo Esc
You turn my stomach like IBS,
I’m so truthful when I speak,
It’s like, I undress,
Cuz I only talk shit, when I BS.
OUTRO
[voicemail audio]
© Erin Emily Wheeler, 2022.
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