Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ethan Tod Davies
Songwriter
Songtexte
Pushing everything away
Money never correlate, with playing all these kinds of games
I got too much time to pray for riches coming to my bank
Fuck you, don't mean I don't fuck with you, I just need time to think
I don't need them sunny days, I want love just like the next
But I know better, the better head don't mean nothing, that bitch could give me concussions
Shit, I'll probably text her if she's bussin' I'm just adjusted, to forcing myself to function
Give no fucks and keep on punching dead horses until it's something
Help me find my way, lost all hope don't complicate
My situation terminate, all these feelings don't just go away
I'll never change who I am, don't even know if I can
You left your heart in my lap, be right here when you come back
Need you to say it's okay, you started sailing away
Left me here back in the k, it's so much more than your face
But in case I'm dumb, I'll keep calling you a bum, a trophy wife for a son, You won't hear it anyway
Someone play the laugh track, she keep laughing, ha ha
Flashback, I'm her only asset, bitch really a class act
Really what you call that, flush it down the toilet
Memories annoying, getting old, you getting boring
Slumped in the corner, don't wake me till the morning
Dreams keep forming, to real life stories
Mine out the quarries, need a girl in her forties
To show me that there's more to life than chillin' with my former
Homies in the bar drink up our time, it feel like torture
Working on an album since before I, fell in love like 4 times
Music, money, girls, and drugs don't come up to the forefront
But, I, I, want, want, your, your, taste, taste, on my tongue, tongue
Don't, don't, play, play, you think this fun, fun
Run from me, me, you you, best, best, run
Go grab my gun, gun, gun
Don't jam, don't care, don't dance
Don't, rant, rant, rant, pump fake boxed in don't don't relate
Don't, don't, don't be late don't, don't feel loved I compensate
Ate homie said finish that race, race might TK, K
Got too many plates to feed, feed
Please, please don't, don't, don't you hate, hate
Got me stressing to get paid, paid
For my future love, love, don't, don't, fuck up
Don't fuck up, don't, don't fuck up
Don't, don't fuck up, up, up, don't fuck up
Someone play the laugh track, she keep laughing, ha ha
Flashback, I'm her only asset, bitch really a class act
Really what you call that, flush it down the toilet
Memories annoying, getting old, you getting boring
Written by: Ethan Tod Davies