Saturday, February 13, 2010

Mr. misguided

Artificial glamour seem to to have them girls shook

But they'll see how fake you are if they take a second look

New rims on the whip known to give them whip flash

But if you walking down the street you lose attention in a flash

She hoping that you grow but you knew it wouldn't last

You a terrorist, hijacking her heart just to crash

Land in her room, in her life she made a room

That’s forever to be closed call it a mummy tomb

Chains around your neck

Cause you are a slave to your image

You’re a never dying breed

Always changing up the gimmick

And you always get away

It’s like you never reach your limit

A mountain of broken hearts

You laugh and wear them like a pendent

Your victims are your trophy

So who needs a trophy wife?

Hopeless Mr. misguided

Destined to live a lonely life

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