That one there

You had your minute of fame, but boy you so damn lame. 
A few weeks back you was calling me babe, trying to get laid. 
I turned you down, now you’re trying to clown.
Telling your little lies, I see right past those lying eyes.
I may sling mops, at least I don’t sniff rocks.
Yeah I got my whips, but you never paid for them.
I work for every dollar I get, bust my ass for it. 
Hardest working woman you ever been with,
I paid for all my own shit.
You say you’re self made, but mommy gave you everything. 
You’re not a baller, you’re a borrower.
Can’t manage funds, boy you are spun.  

Playing your lame game, looking for fame.
Scared someone’s gonna forget your name.
Mind games, takes no blame, do it all without shame. 

On social media desperate for love writing songs about your ex,
What are you gonna do next.
Nudes on snap, forgot your son saw that. 
Better try tender, bumble, match you’re almost 50 the clock is ticking. 
After all this time, I’m running rent free on your mind.
Just blame me for it all, I’m use to taking the fall. 
Welcome to the players ball.
You stay talking shit about all your friends, like you’re in competition.
Even trying to compete with your kid,
Man that shit is so dead.
You need some therapy and maybe you would have clarity.
Instead of being delusional, you’re a little in institutional. 


Playing your lame game, looking for fame.
Scared somebody’s going to forget your name.
Mind games, take no blame, do it all without  shame.