Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Secret Band
Secret Band
Performer
Martin Bianchini
Martin Bianchini
Guitar
Jordan McCoy
Jordan McCoy
Bass
Jonathan Mess
Jonathan Mess
Vocals
Matthew Mingus
Matthew Mingus
Drums
William Swan
William Swan
Guitar
Josh Benton
Josh Benton
Drums
Tim Feerick
Tim Feerick
Guitar
Dryw Owens
Dryw Owens
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Martin Bianchini
Martin Bianchini
Composer
Jordan McCoy
Jordan McCoy
Composer
Jonathan Mess
Jonathan Mess
Composer
Matthew Mingus
Matthew Mingus
Composer
William Swan
William Swan
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Josh Benton
Josh Benton
Recording Engineer
Dryw Owens
Dryw Owens
Recording Engineer
Nick Loiacono
Nick Loiacono
Recording Engineer
Alan Douches
Alan Douches
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Yeah, what you think they're clapping for? My ass a porch, and I dance for dorks I know one day I'll be a flaccid corpse So I guess I'm aiming to not be poor I'll battle with a flattened floor And smash my mouth till a star is born Yeah, get 'em early 'fore their brains is formed And feed it demons, we should all watch porn I wanna get paid I wanna get paid I wanna get paid Am I setting a trap through the looking glass? I can prove that my memories, I remember being in them It all felt like a nap, I woke up in the past I'm confused, but my memories, I remember being in them Right? Right? Right? You don't wanna be here, you don't wanna be bored We need another planet and a new kinda sport I feel like I'm Samus, but my suit's an orange And my arm is full of juice, too much drug use Honey, honey, honey, the bees are in need We're starting to bleed, save up all of your weed Everyone can see that you've been sucking on sedatives That's not your relative, you're out of your element I think I know what I've been talking about I'm having some doubts, disillusioned with clout Ho, another average piece, I feel like it's rat food I really like art, but forgot to get tattooed A great Pyrenees a big ass dog I fear my god, it knows when I'm wrong Oh no, sacs getting overrun by bums It used to be fun, now I hate the place I'm from On my way to care I fell right down the stairs My device is getting scared Embarrassed I'm peeling myself off the roof I'm searching my mind for the loot I'm hoping my heart follows suit I'm fairly American It took a lotta thought to know It took a lotta thought to know If I'm on my feet, I'm pacing Erasing relationships, I'm facing No embracing, no more patience No more trips, my vacations wasted If the story that I tell is real My shadow biting at my heels I'm fabricated, then integrated It's shoved in a pill, hope you feel fulfilled I wanna get paid I wanna get paid I wanna get paid Am I setting a trap through the looking glass? I can prove that my memories, I remember being in them It all felt like a nap, I woke up in the past I'm confused, but my memories, I remember being in them
Writer(s): Matthew James Mingus, William Swan, Jonathan David Mess Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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