| I gotta lot to say
|
| Don’t listen to what I say
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| 'Cause every feeling that I fucking feel is never honest, babe, never honest,
|
| babe
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| Like woah, oh
|
| I’ve been following the breeze so let me fucking go
|
| Let me go, let me go, I’ve been trying to find the road
|
| If you get up in my whip with me we’ll let the mind implode
|
| So baby what you doing? |
| I just wanna go home
|
| I can scoop you like whenever, take you back home in the morn
|
| Like
|
| We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
|
| We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
|
| We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
|
| We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
|
| I said we could fucking make it out
|
| Grabbed me by the face and kiss me, then we started making out
|
| I was listening to DGD and it was raining out
|
| Voices in my head been asking «What are you complaining 'bout?»
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| 'Cause everything is golden, I’ve been in my zone
|
| and if you wanna roll we could smoke it later
|
| Live inside this moment, write it and compose it
|
| Time to record the door down the hall, another
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| Sorta prequel to fit the sequel, I kinda
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| Sorta feel small, not noticed at all, until I
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| Wrote a song for it, I wrote a song for it
|
| Here’s how it goes, a bunch of weed smoke, I panic
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| Start to feel slow, sick down to my toes, I’m manic
|
| Time just feels slow, it comes and it goes, the static
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| Is all I see though, as I decompose, how tragic
|
| How tragic
|
| Yeah, how tragic
|
| Yeah, how tragic
|
| Let me go, let me go, I’ve been trying to find the road
|
| If you get up in my whip with me we’ll let the mind implode
|
| So baby what you doing? |
| I just wanna go home
|
| I can scoop you like whenever, take you back home in the morn
|
| Like
|
| We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
|
| We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
|
| We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
|
| We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out |