| «Got to change my way of living
|
| Got to change my style»
|
| He remembers a little bit of his childhood
|
| Sometimes bad, sometimes good
|
| But he never was one to blame today’s grey sky on last week’s rain
|
| So he see’s everything face value
|
| Looks grim, it tastes bad too
|
| There’s nothing to do except dupe, push down the wall and get through it I swear to god it’s too stretched
|
| Too easy to slip or lose steps
|
| And the taller you are, the harder you fall
|
| That’s why a lot of us crawl
|
| Mumma, please don’t look now
|
| I’ve gotta walk over people I’ve took down
|
| It ain’t as pretty as you probably think
|
| It’s gonna take more than soap and a sink
|
| Tomorrow he’ll drink to the guilt of every cheap wooden bridge that he’s built
|
| Bury those skeletons in his head
|
| Til you pick him up and carry him to bed
|
| Swimming through alcohol and woman
|
| Gets some gold spray paint for that lemon
|
| Everything he’s got is not a given
|
| Rock bottom on the flipside of top billin
|
| Not a victim, fuck the sympathy
|
| Figure it out, and kill the bitch in me Poor a little liquor out and call it a victory
|
| They said the sky was limit free
|
| No, don’t trust none of these people
|
| Won’t give him enough to love me for me so even when they welcome me into their kingdom
|
| Can’t bring self to believe them
|
| It goes, folk hard tryna act like no flaw
|
| Turn it up til it burns that stove top
|
| Mr know it all, bad boy showoffs
|
| Red lights, no stops
|
| Mumma, this can’t be the boy you raised me to be
|
| The drama, depression
|
| Afraid that it must be the daily in me that’s crazy
|
| Carry me home — take care of your baby
|
| Don’t wanna live like that, no Don’t wanna live like that, no |