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Circles Crime Mob
My head is constantly spinnin, twistin. Cause now this boy trippin on me. First off we all lovey dovey, now he call me his homie. Wishy washy kinda feelins tryna play with my emotions. Then mumble the words I love you when they said that he was jokin.
My head. Shipping. Kind of feeling, trying to play with my emotions. When they say that. In the my love is what he calls it. Three between the last. But it might be clear. Get the notice. They go way in.
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