| I can’t get along with, no one
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| Who you wanna phone with
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| Lurkin' on my lonesome
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| I can’t smoke no bogus
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| Ain’t got to be explosive, the strongest
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| I can’t get along with no one
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| Who you wanna phone with
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| Coping with my demons was a long one
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| Elixir made my double cup I had to drink a strong one
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| I can’t fuck with no one
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| I’m in love with no one
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| I can eat my own beefs and I’m gon shoot my own gun
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| If you really real you will mention all your weakness and defences then own 'em
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| Idol fight your demons I could loan you
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| Don’t turn into the old you
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| Don’t let them niggas mold you
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| Don’t let no bitch corrode you
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| I told you
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| All that bullshit you let them door-to-door-sale people sold you that
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| He saying she can really mold you
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| It’s old news, the old you
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| Probably might have deaded that and domed you
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| Don’t be your suicide, don’t let your pettiness control you
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| Don’t let niggas pwn you
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| Every chance they get they gon expose you
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| Gotta stay Quioxte with them hoes too
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| You can’t tell no secrets to your bros too
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| You walk forever in her gold shoes
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| Brang money back to old dudes
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| I can’t get along with, no one
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| Who you wanna phone with
|
| Lurkin' on my lonesome
|
| I can’t smoke no bogus
|
| Ain’t got to be explosive, the strongest
|
| I can’t get along with no one
|
| Who you wanna phone with
|
| Coping with my demons was a long one
|
| Elixir made my double cup I had to drink a strong one
|
| I can’t fuck with no one
|
| I’m in love with no one
|
| I can eat my own beefs and I’m gon shoot my own gun
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| Yeah
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| I came with my vices in the face if I ain’t high already
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| TSA won’t let me board because I’m fly already
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| I was tongue kissing with death, I should have died already
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| For the ending where she whispered that I die, already
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| Blowing out the Chevvy bitch, my mind so heavy
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| It get hard to lift my spirits, yes I tried already
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| Carpool with some boppers they look fire already
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| For whatever cuz I kick the game like Lionel Messi
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| Argentina for my rehab got my mind more steady
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| Tryna look into the sunlight, the blinds won’t let me
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| If niggas on the crib don’t try to pull up breaking levies
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| Or a suicidal groupie then my mind gon' get me
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| I can’t get along with, no one
|
| Who you wanna phone with
|
| Lurkin' on my lonesome
|
| I can’t smoke no bogus
|
| Ain’t got to be explosive, the strongest
|
| I can’t get along with no one
|
| Who you wanna phone with
|
| Coping with my demons was a long one
|
| Elixir made my double cup I had to drink a strong one
|
| I can’t fuck with no one
|
| I’m in love with no one
|
| I can eat my own beefs and I’m gon shoot my own gun
|
| Everybody I ever tried to do good for, with, or to had fucked up perceptions of
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| me after they couldn’t achieve their… interior, ulterior, alternative
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| whatever the fuck the motives are, look. |
| All I ever did was keep it solid.
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| And every time somebody get me wrong they want me to look as bad as they feel
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| — nah fuck that, fuck that. |
| I had to shake that off, that’s no way to start the
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| trip. |
| So I tried to cut on some old cartoons, shit was funny for a second.
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| I looked up, there’s this dude in a bag, almost like — almost like the dude in
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| with the fake … whatever look it up. |
| So I’m totally fried eggs at this point
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| right, I guess I might as well embrace him right. |
| (Bro you tryna watch Looney
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| Toons g?) Then I turn the TV up and — (Yo, what the fuck?) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song MILK, artist - Chuuwee. Album song The Tip Of A Tab (PO+), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп