I knew
back then this was all a game
Oh no, what a
shame
You have
yourself to blame
One, two, three,
four
Have you given
up or you're thirsty for more?
Five, six,
seven, eight
I'm already over
you, too late
When I found out
about your petty little masquerade
Your appearance
has decayed
You're so two
thousand and eighteen
I don't wanna know
how you've been
I'm gonna go for
a walk
You voice is
cringe like chalk
Oh I'm toxic?
Bitch please,
you make me fucking sick
I am free
From your
monstrosity
Here's your
Master Degree
A Degree in
Puppetry
Because you're a
pro at manipulation
I don't want you
back
I ain't gonna
cut you some slack
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