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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Yelawolf
Yelawolf
Vocals
Willpower
Willpower
Programming
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Keyboards
Sasha Sirota
Sasha Sirota
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Atha
Michael Atha
Songwriter
Jason Boyd
Jason Boyd
Songwriter
William Joel
William Joel
Songwriter
William Washington
William Washington
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Willpower
Willpower
Producer
Brian Gardner
Brian Gardner
Mastering Engineer
Eminem
Eminem
Mixing Engineer
Mike Strange
Mike Strange
Mixing Engineer
Sasha Sirota
Sasha Sirota
Recording Engineer

Songtexte

Why is everything I love the most, so wrong for me? And everything I'm holding close, is so far away from me? They don't want me to lie but, they don't wanna hear the truth It never made sense to me Why everything I love the most, is so wrong for me! Yeah! Problematic, I'm so problematic That I'm probably a problem addict Pop an aspirin cause my head is hurtin' Hotel bedroom, missin' curtains Sheets everywhere like a storm has passed In fact it looks like I got into a wrestlin' match Empty bottle of Jack, I could tell after that I could smell it in fact, it's like death and ass Think for a minute if I look over and look To my left is an opened book, a Bible To my right is a guilty conscience and her name is Brooke, my rival At least I think her name was Brook She's asleep, and I'm givin' her the lamest look Move her hair back so that I could see your face Cause it was dark and I met her at the game it took About 5 minutes to get her inside the whip Another 5 minutes to get up inside the lips Never try really, man not tryna slip, aww! but it was just thighs and hips OK, I was high, shit On alchohol and the Yelawolf ego trip And it's the walk of shame again! Why is everything I love the most, so wrong for me? And everything I'm holding close, is so far away from me? They don't want me to lie but, they don't wanna hear the truth It never made sense to me Why everything I love the most, is so wrong for me! Smokin' out, throwin' up Keep a fifth off in my cup Trying not to be a simp But every time I take a sip I think I'm gonna fall in lust I'm back and forth like I'm packing a truck In a house that never runs out of boxes Knowing that if I put on my tennis shoes And a fresh fit, I'll end up sockless By the end of the night, flip flopping I'll B-Boy if you let me Hip Hop in Alligator skin cowgirl boots only means let's get it crockin' That mini skirt makes any man a flirt Manicures animal furs and a purse What could a little bit a smoke and Henny hurt? You make any jerk make a penny work Sinister with sin in her She can leave a devil sitting in the church On another level not in the earth Jessica Alba had twins at birth Trippin' sure, piles of E, ménage-a-trois, piles of three Waking up again not proud of me Yeah, I'm a lousy fiend Why is everything I love the most, so wrong for me? And everything I'm holding close, is so far away from me? They don't want me to lie, but they don't wanna hear the truth It never made sense to me Why everything I love the most, is so wrong for me!
Writer(s): Jason Boyd, Michael Atha, William Booker Washington Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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