POTPOURRI OF FRIENDSHIP : mourning tea or evening tea; you own the keys to the spice

You're the girl guys call honey; making the bees jealous
Seen hot girls turn hurt girls; awaken to face the mourning tea
You're the guy the girls call bae; girls wanna be your bae-bae
I've seen guys with six cars now nursing six scars
Some try to get your age drained; let them through the drainage,
Ladies that make your age lean ain't your match for making lineage,
Some try to get your age messed; give them red card's the message,
Men that try to man your gate blocking others like a gate man
Seem like flowers in a casket but are cars that aim at your skirt,
They start by unveiling your teeth until you show them your tits,
They turn the crown of your tits; make you a tongue in attachment,
After sex 'tis game over; been your game boy all along
The thick boo apt to leave you once you buy her the boutique,
She makes herself your hottie cos she knows you like your tea hot,
Though moaning for the money; leaves you mourning in the morning,
Called her "my tea" till game over; now the heartbeak is so mighty
You see them all around you doesn't mean it's "love" arround you,
So happy they surround you until they put some sore round you,
The zone that makes you horny has made you a friend-zoned honey
Their brain only liked you, pity your heart loved them
Some friends you want ain't friends you need; a friend in need is a friend in deed,
Some make you high like weed while some beautify you like bead,
Some multiply you like seed while some divide you in greed,
In all, you own the grid; your brain must lead for heart not to bleed.
Title credits: Innocent Kennethson and Samuel Fasanya

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