mantra of a pimp

I left her a note in my note pad wrote her but she never wrote back so fooled how I barely rose back up was exhausting but never again the ink will never drop from the pen again to create the words for a specialer Fren my girl you done messed up an elegant blend of the purest of loves that could have never of went tell me who told you break di warmest hot the chest felt sutten like the burn from starch but hear what he's back up in dis ting but he ain't looking for a new love to jsee him as a simp at large with his craft so gyal past with the wind don't blame him on to bigger and better tings flow like osh I'm the master of my print cold on these hoes that's the mantra of a pimp