| Hey girl, so nice to wake up
|
| And see your name come up on my phone
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| Guess we failed at being alone
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| I guess we failed not to talk, talk
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| Like waterboarding type torture
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| Less war, more love, doors boarded up
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| Save our hearts from being torn apart
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| But I feel like Lance’s calves after Tour de France
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| Worked so hard for nothin'
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| I cussed you out, that was me adjusting
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| Couldn’t meet in London, I was juggling
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| Two jobs and couldn’t find freedom from it
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| Long distance over WhatsApp
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| Turned into combat only cause I
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| Wish you’d be here now like you’re Rhonda
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| Still why don’t you come back?
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| But don’t, don’t throw it all away
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| Girl to find me, girl to find me here
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| I know that ain’t a holiday
|
| Don’t remind me, don’t remind me
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| Girl you my gun, gun gu—n
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| Take my world apart—art
|
| Gun, gun gu—n
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| Make me wanna run
|
| Hello 'ello my little l—o—v—e
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| No E.T., yeah no phoning home
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| No making passes tryna score
|
| Ain’t tryna be no Karl Malone
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| I know you ain’t no roman Mona Lisa
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| Ain’t tryna keep you hanging, no
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| Future planning girl, you gotta go do you
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| You mean too much to me to make you choose
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| And knew that we all lose love
|
| But you were my gun, wounding
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| Shooting me through my heart, Stanley Kubrick type art
|
| Moved with our eyes wide shut
|
| You were my drug but there ain’t no Betty Ford clinic
|
| And it wasn’t pretty living by myself
|
| Under your spell kept running through my worlds like Gargamel
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| 'Cause you’re my
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| Gun, gun gu—n
|
| Take my world apart—art
|
| Gun, gun gu—n
|
| Make me wanna run
|
| Gun, gun gu—n
|
| Take my world apart—art
|
| Gun, gun gu—n
|
| Make me wanna run
|
| Be strong, don’t listen Trey Songz
|
| No photos from Rome, no renaissance
|
| Stay away from her Instagram man
|
| Take that phone out of your damn hand
|
| You don’t need to read the old messages
|
| Don’t eat pizza for breakfast
|
| You don’t need to bring it up again
|
| 'cause all your friends like Ben
|
| They sick of the break up, either make up
|
| Or shut your mouth boy, what you made of
|
| Fairy floss boy? |
| Let me tell ya somethin'
|
| If you play with old flames like napalm
|
| You’re gonna get burnt, gonna get hurt
|
| If it don’t work out again it’s worst
|
| When you return you learn it ain’t meant to be
|
| And we both know that ain’t me
|
| But don’t, don’t throw it all away
|
| Girl to find me, girl to find me here
|
| I know that ain’t a holiday
|
| Don’t remind me, don’t remind me
|
| Girl you my gun, gun gu—n
|
| Take my world apart—art
|
| Gun, gun gu—n
|
| Make me wanna run
|
| Gun, gun gu—n
|
| Take my world apart—art
|
| Gun, gun gu—n
|
| Make me wanna run |