Little Fourth of July

I call you Little Fourth of July A broken cloudy day still lights up the sky I bled out of the tiger's mouth When I was 17, when I was 17 I love you like a wasp loves honey Sell my soul for some of that Young Money I love you like an upstate winter Makes my word go from sweet to bitter I've seen the world spin I've seen the suburban sin I wrote about growing pains through a Sparkling youth When I was 17, when I was 17. I love you like a wasp loves honey Sell my soul for some of that Young Money I love you like an upstate winter Makes my word go from sweet to bitter