W.C.W - Page Kennedy, Kuniva

There she goes

Posing in front of a toothpaste-stained mirror

One ass cheek on the sink, LOL-ing

In the meantime, Momma’s in the background, yelling

«Better get these kids!

I’m tired of watching 'em!

And I know damn well you ain’t about to leave out again with Shaquan and them!

Trifling ass!

Better bring my car back filled with gas

And be up on time in the morning to get these kids to class!»

She ain’t listening: she’s on the 'Gram, 'bout to make herself a meme

Posting up, «Too blessed to be stressed» with a gang of typos in between

Wanna run with them ballers

Hoping one day, one of them will call her over to the section

Only thing she gets is Skee-Lo-type niggas: wish they were a little bit taller

Oh well, she gon' roll with it anyway

Selfie stick, duckface

Waist trainers strapped on like duct tape

Flossed out in the parking lot, flicking it in front of somebody’s Mustang,

like «Cheese!»

All for the likes

Hashtags longer than fake lashes

Make-up looking like more clay than Cassius

Look like the doll from the movie Saw (so tragic)

Before you think about a double-tap

Go through all of her pictures, double back!

Her bed’s sitting up like a Barney Rubble mat

That’s a concrete slab, but you loving that

What you don’t know is

Your WCW be tripping

Your WCW don’t bathe right

Your WCW be tweeting from an air mattress, talking slick

Her private parts ain’t shaved right

Your WCW is homeless

Your WCW’s a swallower

Her mama’s disappointed, her man beat her

She’s turning up and barely sees her kids, but has a million followers

I was wondering why every time I log on

It used to be awesome

Now the feeling is all gone

It’s loud as a foghorn

She want me to suffer, pull out the sharp thorn

But she keeps on posting these doggone, hot pics!

Hot chicks get likes 'cause they got tits

She my ex, but when she posts Instagrams, she stick it to me like chopsticks

I’m so thirsty for it to be Thursday

She could be magic, and wouldn’t be worthy

All these ups and downs, jumping around, dropping the pounds, making the sounds,

fall on the ground

FUCK BURPEES!

And fuck Slurpees!

I’mma keep coming back in the end, my friend: I’m butt herpes!

You’re my Woman Crush Wednesday, comprende?

I don’t give a fuck, slut!

HEARD ME?!!

All the followers you got, will not, stop or kill my true plot

It’s got, to be all the hearts, all the darts

That I throw at your photos, seeing 'em all falling apart

The irony of ironing in Ireland

As I pretend that my revenge

Has nothing to do with this crying binge happening at this Ireland inn

Woo!

Hotel, jotting down hoe tales

From a hoe that I thot I know so well

And I said «thot» on purpose

'Cause I thought a thot purpose was to be worthless

I’m not a stalker: I’m just good at hoe-watching!

I’m going for it: I’m a quarterback with no option

I’m not throwing you away, I’mma keep it!

My Woman Crush Wednesday little secret

Your WCW be tripping

Your WCW don’t bathe right

Your WCW be tweeting from an air mattress, talking slick

Her private parts ain’t shaved right

Your WCW is homeless

Your WCW’s a swallower

Her mama’s disappointed, her man beat her

She’s turning up and barely sees her kids, but has a million followers