Dry Bootie Rule

I hope
They got that rule
For dry bootie
I got that thang
An you know
Ill shoot it
Thats rite
Thats mine
My partna 
Inside
Ill hit that oil
O my god
This world
Is out
Of control
Lint too any city
Spinning independently 
Some stars
Hit some churches
The frigid malt drinkers
Say that is good
That ull be enough said
Sweep 
At the lip
Loose murder
Thats for the ghost
I had too leave 
My baby
On a country road
Thats on goat
Run to the loft
An get that lit 
The truth
Only the wise
Hear their screams
Through the trees
Key rentals
Thats extra for that late snap
Pauses
Stay dreaming
They still follow
Their bleeding
Left lit at your feet
Believing
I knew pain
Then the door shuts any idea
Of me being free
Im just a baby
Who just us
This coffin
Sleep an become lit
She lay for me
How do i see 
While i burn in this fire
Stand looking 
Who slams a door
Before someone gets there