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Trouble
Today I woke up with big thighs, a big fat bottom, and lips as full as a junk drawer
They look at me from afar and say,
This girl is trouble
My big, fat lips filled in with my favorite magenta colored lip-gloss flows the complicated mind of me, and because of this,
I’m trouble
I walk with an elegant sway, being with this, my thighs always kiss,
And when I’m in a place with my long black hair, I know I won’t be missed,
But Avernice, you egotistic girl, that too can get you in trouble
Is it my fault that I love the long black curly weaves and the rosy-pink lip colors and lip-glosses that make my lips shine like the stars above?
Is it my fault that I want my appearance to be original, unique, and so me?
Don’t wear that Avernice they say, you need to put a jacket over you
That’ll get you in trouble,
But what trouble is worth hushing my flair?
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