Written By: Matthew Reid March 28, 2013 Recorded at: The "Spot" (March 2013) Verse 1 Man blonde girls, blowing up my line nothing on they mind/ take a chill, take a pill, and spit another rhyme. The ex-wife, yeah she's on another team/ does it mean she like's water and not the flavor of skeet. I'm not her cup of tea, so she go and leaves her seat/ still don't text now come on everybody sing. My brothers really far though, man fuck Well's Fargo/ they took my brest friend and that makes it hard to follow. I'm stuck in the hollow so come on and just follow/ kill myself tonight no guaranteed tomorrow. This fucking CDL, make me go to hell, hard to tell/ hard to yell, hard she fell, ring the damn bell. My mind state, my mind chase, so open up your eye brain/ my ideas and nightmares they bring my bright tears. Fuck, what the hell should i do?/ don't get confused this Matthew Reid nigga 22. CHORUS Now everything just has changed/ i still want that life, man i still miss the wife. This the perils of lust, man i should just give up. VERSE 2 I wanna hang with friends, who are only full of sins/ the stereotypical life fucking let me in. I love my father yet i still like to bother/ to ask for a ride so what if i am Bi? Still at this job that I'm fucking blow up/ kill all the fags, choke managers with a bag. This life is a drag depression makes me sad/ I'm talented i sing, i beat and also rap. I'm sounding unusual complaining bout my stalemate/ she's jail bate, i still rape, we fucking to my mix-tape. I'm changing Houston music, but no one understands/ nore do they care all they do is fucking stare. What's up with your hair? what's up with your face/ man how you ride my dick but you still be amazed. The black sheep of my family i live in my room/ close the door you'll get an album that afternoon.

Written By: Matthew Reid July 8, 2013 Recorded at: The TH (July 2013) VERSE 1 Ima real cool cat, a laid back cat/ if i was over weight i'd be a maybach cat but uh. Through my travels, i still gotta battle/ man all of the b.s. her peaches are my apple. "You've got a new album it was strictly for the hoes/ It'll help us go gold make our label not fold". But if it goes gold that means I'll lose my soul/ no longer will be brash, whiplash with the cash. Man i gotta stay true, my people need the truth/ with everything they do, they never keep a clue. Brauds lose their shoes as they fucking get the news/ that Matthew just died suicide after two. I stay innovated I'm always introspective/ but fuck all of that my nigga back to the message. The reason why you sweating, the reason why you stressin/ the reason why you frettin, cause you faggots over stepping, Your territory, man your bursting your bubble/ your talking to me and people think that we're a couple. Screw all your questions and expectations/ can't deal with the drama I need a vacation. I'm still ejaculating with no masturbating/ you love "Don't Text" that's why we're debating. VERSE 2 "Mr. Reid what do you say to your fans"?/ man fuck all my fans nigga be your own man. You think that it's a scam then that scam is probably ran/ by the same fucking man who got his hand up in the sand. He builds his own Castle the shit's not Crystal/ go see Flo Rida he can make your single whistle. I don't want the fame but I'll take the acclaim/ we're all fucking wired and we play the same game. That game's beyond lame everybody flocks to it/ your raps are real dope man those hoes are real fluid. Nigga I'm not stupid, your ass wants something/ man stop with the bullshit man stop all the fronting. Man stop all your cussing, and stop all your running/ just sit down and say your ass needs money. These god damn tours only turnout is some whore's/ who's only sucking dick man they suck it through the door. Man they suck it through the floor man that floor is 44/ "Dysfunctional Adulation" bitch loves "Amor". Yet we still adore and yet we still praise/ you always say faggot yet we question if your gay. What do you mean if I'm gay do you hear what i say?/ those rhymes are fucking bangers man they're like an AK. But that AK ain't straight more likely man it's strained/ fuck my damn label everybody know's it's name.

Written By: Matthew Reid April 1, 2013 VERSE 1 The girl that i like, she's got a new man/ he drives a minivan and he's got his own klan. They like Odd Future, they think that I'm a loser/ cause in my head I'm dope and I know that I am cooler. The fag likes my music and comes to my show/ passes me some blow and he says that I am dope. Man already know I don't need your comfirmation/ but i keep my mouth shut cause my girl is celebrating. There's no mistaking, there's brauds on my jock/ but they all fucking suck fucking fake from the top. You like Taylor Swift? no way can he spit/ You like "Thrift Shop" and you wanna slit your wrist? There's controdiction everywhere niggas so fake/ but this girl isn't you can see it in her face. Cut her boyfriend with a rake and then explain my case/ for why I'm fucking doper and there's no mistake. CHORUS Man i know that I'm dope, does it mean things will change. Man what if i get famous, does it mean things will change? VERSE 2 So we went to the spot on my back man she hopped/ i spit her some rhymes the panties soon dropped. Her fucking boyfriend calls throw the phone up in the sand/ she says fuck em and then proceeds to take my hand. We 're walking and talking then suddenly we stop/ before you know my dream bubble had suddenly just popped. She says you know we can't end up this way/ no need for complication, we need to stay straight. VERSE 3 What? this is what I'm about/ the one i get high with and blast Beach House. She critiques my music and the details/ that's my number one fan let the world understand. The life get's a little bland always there for a convo/ sitting on the couch in the fucking Houston condo. She say's no her emotions still show/ she''s trembling my hand, damn that hits home.