The Night Josh Tillman Came To Our Apt.

Oh, I just love the kind of woman who can walk ova a man 
 I mean like a god damn marchin' band 
 She says, like literally, music is the air she breathes 
 And the malaprops make me want to fuckin' scream 
 I wonder if she even knows what that word means 
 Well, it's literally not that 

 Of the few main things I hate about her, one's her petty, vogue ideas 
 Someone's been told too many times they're beyond their years 
 By every half-wit of distinction she keeps around 
 And now every insufferable convo 
 Features her patiently explainin' the cosmos 
 Of which she's in the middle 

 Oh my God, I swear this neva happens 
 Lately, I can't stop the wheels from spinnin' 
 I feel so unconvincin' 
 When I fumble with ur buttons 

 She blames her excess on my influence but gladly Hoovers all my drugs 
 I found her naked with the best friend in the tub 
 We sang 'Silent Night' in three parts which was fun 
 Till she said that she sounds just like Sarah Vaughan 
 I hate that soulful affectation white girls put on 
 Why don't u move to the Delta? 
 I obliged later on when u begged me to choke ya