Kush up on my clothes Whiskey on my breath My only prayer to god Is to ask for death I still smell your perfume Like u never left Missin' late nights U leaving hickeys on my neck
Empty bottle Numbing all the pain Wake up in the morning Circumstance is still the same I'm having trouble trying maintain Sanity inside my damn brain Fuck a bitch and then I get paid They wonder why I'm so lonely
They wonder why I'm so lonely Wonder why I'm so cold Cause ion need no help Bitch I do it all on my own Doing numbers you'll never see This ain't no hobby its a part of me
See theirs a lot of snakes That going slither through the game Try and take advantage of your lil' bit of fame That's why I don't work Unless I'm mother fucking paid Young kid with some intuition Listen what I say
They told me I could never be Everything that I am now All I got is room to grow Cause there's no more breaking me down Been at the bottom to long Harbor emotion 2 put it in songs You think you know me You got it all wrong
Compositor: Robert Joseph Lund (BMI)Editor: Yousadbruh Publishing (BMI)Administração: Songtrust Blvd (BMI)ECAD verificado obra #24821904 em 07/Mai/2024 com dados da UBEM