Gucci flip-flops

The sun'll come out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun. Just thinking about tomorrow, clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow, till there's none.

So, um, I freestyle and I hope y'all like this.

Isn't it lovely, all alone? Help me to grasp my mind of stone. Tear me to pieces, skinny bones. Our love, welcome home. Whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah.

booooooyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy