Early Diss (Ghosts & Tray)

I’ll love you always, but you won’t feel any of it,
Will you?
You’ll lie with others, no rhythm
Or reason
And neither of you will get it
And only one of you
Will ever come.

The boys, the boys:
They’ll look anything but your father.

I’m aware it might not hit you until they hit you.
I wanted to feel free and loved, but our games
Were not exclusive.
And how many rules did you change?
Then your child’s play would act up—mine too;
But I want a badge
For at least feeling guilty.

Your type: they are a debut muse.
People leave towns for you and make it big.
My spiritualisation will be televised, but I’m worried

You will only have ghosts
And tray.