Sorry (feat. Caiti Baker)

I'm sorry

You're sorry

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

I'm sorry, you're sorry

You caught some feelings from me

I might just kill somebody

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

I'm sorry, you're sorry

You caught some feelings from me

I might just kill somebody

You make me feel some kind of way

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

You make me feel some kind of way

Ayy, B! Yo

I said, catch me politickin' with this politician, ripped him out of office

I promise, we keep it G without the thousand dollars

To our name sake, me and B, the same name in camouflage

Dropped so many S's off my chest they call it Abotage

Camo cars, looking for that buzz like I'ma land on Mars

They tried to ride along, but none could ever handle bars

Heavy on the hallion, my strings bring Adele in

Eureka on the speaker, that must mean that I'ma gellin'

Now I'm back, so they steppin', and I'm black, so they stressin'

That the fact that my weapon is just that

I'm black, so they terrified

Put the song on record so it never dies

I did the wrongs so my son could always get it right

What's being known if you ain't ever leaving home and speakin' on it?

You want a gimmick? Try being honest

That's a rare commodity in this here economy

But ayy, me n' B'll make 'em see like Pam & Tommy Lee

I'm sorry, you're sorry

You caught some feelings from me (No apologies)

I might just kill somebody

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

I took that white money, turned that to my money

Round up the squad, don't worry who I sign, buddy

You don't like me or T? That's just fine, honey

Talkin' all that bullshit and now they tryna hide from me

Please, Briggs, you don't wanna shoot the messengers

But I wanna do somethin' to leave the messages

Livin' proof, you're gonna learn what the lesson is

You fuck around and I'ma have to make a mess of yas

I got a letter from the government, took it where my oven is

Cooked it on the stove top, fuck 'em, I want none of it

I asked 'em where my cousin went, you had him in your fuckin' pen

Killed him, got a holiday, that's not a punishment

So line up the white like I'm Maradona

You fucked around and made do some shit that I don't wanna

Apologies, don't follow me or you're a goner

I know you're sorry, and I'm sorry, but I gotta

I'm sorry, you're sorry

You caught some feelings from me

I might just kill somebody

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

I'm sorry, you're sorry

You caught some feelings from me

I might just kill somebody

You make me feel some kind of way

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

Here come the pallbearers, yeah

Bury, bury, bury you deep

Deep down, down, down, down

La-di-la-da-di-la-da-la

Six feet under