Lyrics

You don't get it (you did good $lick) (It's a Smash) I'm just reckless with myself Taking over, something only time will tell Wetto, ayy Already know what time I'm on, Double-R slidin' on autobahn She tryna get my love, the best I can do is a trauma bond Poppin' these pills got easier, but gettin' high been gettin' harder Remember them days in maw-maw's house, holdin' on my grandfather Remember them days in the Envoy, it was just me and Oddy Now all of my homies got their own bus, but they ain't got time for bondin' Tellin' myself that it's okay, knowin' that's a lie Ayy, never at home, just passin' by I was always told that boys don't cry, why am I so broke inside? Waste time on an inner child, motherfucker been dead since five Seen my dad OD at nine, was never the same again I never had the chance to win I keep reachin' out for help I can't tell if I'm too concerned with myself Feel like I'm just collectin' dust on the shelf (fuck it, fuck it) I think it's time to bid farewell Left all the lights on, but I ain't home, 30-thousand feet up Got my ice on, but I ain't cold, 30-thousand degrees Yup, I stashed 30-thousand in the freezer Feel like a crooked congressman I blame it on Percocets, amnesia, can't keep up with my tolerance I'm tryna win this war on drugs, but I lost the battle by callin' up the plug Got back in the saddle Moth to the flame, I'm insane, all these voices rattle Foggin' up my brain, numb the pain, locked up in my castle (you don't get it) I'm startin' to unravel, surrounded by all these snakes and jackals They keep temptin' me to eat that apple I need the top loose ends, form these threads into a tassel I keep reachin' out for help I can't tell if I'm too concerned with myself Feel like I'm just collectin' dust on the shelf (fuck it, fuck it) I think it's time to bid farewell (you don't get it) I keep reachin' out for help I can't tell if I'm too concerned with myself Feel like I'm just collectin' dust on the shelf (fuck it, fuck it) I think it's time to bid farewell You, you, you, you, don't, don't, don't, don't This, this, this, this's waiting myself You, you get it, get it, get it, get it This, this, this, this's guiding myself
Writer(s): Aristos Petrou, Scott Arceneaux Jr. Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out