Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ass Backwards, artist - Rav.
Date of issue: 15.12.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Ass Backwards |
I apologize before I ever even fuck up |
This my lullaby (R-A-V!) |
I’m ass-backwards |
Everything I do is haphazard, ayy |
Ass-backwards |
The type to cry now and laugh after, ayy |
These days, I don’t look forward when I move |
Could turn a gift into a curse, a pretty bow into a noose |
I’m on the come-up but a downer, feeling lonesome and obtuse |
The irony is that I hate you, yet I hope that you improve |
No longer am I prone to letting loose |
So don’t invite me to your parties or I’m spoilin' the mood |
I’m known to be the dude posted in the corner of the room |
Starin' at his fuckin' phone, never knowin' what to do |
Okay, you get it: I’m a bummer |
Type to sweat through coldest winters and then shiver during summers |
Say I do shit for the love, but feel embittered by my numbers |
My complainin' honesty could throw a cricket into slumber or a coma or a grave |
Wake up in the mornin', feeling mortified each day |
Hope has become foreign, gotta fortify my brain (Brain) |
Sizin' what’s in store through the stories I’ve obtained |
My mind keeps pouring when it rains |
Falling all the time (For the same) |
Awkward thoughts of mine (Every day) |
I apologize before I ever even fuck up |
This my lullaby |
I’m ass-backwards |
Everything I do is haphazard, ayy (One-two) |
Ass-backwards (Check, one-two, one-two) |
The type to cry now and laugh after, ayy |
These are my last four tokens |
I wanted more but they foreboding |
The game’s closed, but the door opened |
The back-porch poet delivered it short-notice |
Morse-code it |
The Lord knows it’s fuck them and the horse they rode in on |
Of course they owned Enron |
I blow up with the force of an N-bomb |
It’s my Freudian symptom |
I whistle like the Scorpions' hit song |
I’m hitting X with the button stick and |
This way coming is something wicked |
And 'tis the season for pumpkin gimmicks |
I need a basket for wastepaper |
A secret package with tastemakers |
Cabinet bracket space-saver |
I operate on an eighth-acre |
And I’m raising a frickin' eighth-grader |
I’m on Android like James Spader |
They praised luck in the race |
Labor for rectangular-shaped paper |
Fallin' all the time (For the same) |
Awkward thoughts of mine (Every day) |
I apologize before I ever even fuck up (R-A-V) |
It’s my lullaby |
I’m ass-backwards |
Everything I do is haphazard, ayy |
Ass-backwards |
The type to cry now and laugh after, ayy |