Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm Sorry, artist - Tom MacDonald. Date of issue: 23.08.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
I'm Sorry |
| Honestly, y’all have been killin' my confidence |
| All of the negative comments and gossip |
| It’s hard to imagine the stress that I’m under |
| I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for all of this |
| I’m sorry for spittin' the truth |
| I’m sorry for dissin' that dude |
| Sorry for missin' the point of the criticism |
| I was blinded by diamonds and loot |
| I apologize to all you guys |
| Y’all were right, I was out my mind |
| I went too far, I did too much |
| The haters were right when they said I suck |
| I did my best it did nothin' for me |
| I gave my guts and got lost in glory |
| I’m standin' here while you sit before me |
| There’s nothin' left but to say «I'm sorry» |
| Sorry, that doesn’t bother me |
| I don’t owe anybody an apology |
| I don’t have no regrets in my biology |
| Reload and shoot for the stars, y’all look like astronomy |
| No one as hot as me, copy me commonly |
| Wannabes, y’all are so shockingly comedy |
| Carry the weight of my songs all on top of me |
| I will not break I’m not made out of pottery |
| Bury your bodies on acres of property |
| Place them at angles like sacred geometry |
| Down with modesty |
| Everything I drop is quality |
| Promise, like honestly, follow me |
| I ain’t gonna stop with the hits |
| Come rock with the kid |
| Like Pac woulda been |
| I’m a god with the pen, no cops at the crib |
| Got guap 'cause I’m awesome at this |
| Underrated, overpaid, they hate it |
| Complicated calculations made to rape the paper |
| Razor-sharp like blades and Freddy versus Jason |
| Angels in my heart and Satan in the basement |
| Raisin' hands and faces what has made me famous |
| Great imagination, fatal combination |
| Labels holler daily, I’ve been on vacation |
| Basic translation is: «I don’t give a fuck!» |
| Sorry I got a point of view |
| It’s like a pistol, you don’t want the point at you |
| Y’all are annoyin', dude |
| Y’all are like rats racin' in a gas-chamber |
| Y’all can’t avoid the fumes |
| Y’all in a cage locked |
| My deranged thoughts are like Ray Charles |
| Waving chainsaws cause yo' brain chopped |
| Into 8 parts, take yo' face off |
| Hit the graveyard on my days off |
| I just cock, aim, and I spray shots |
| 'Til yo' legs lock and your veins pop |
| In a day’s break y’all get laid off |
| My girl shot every single fuckin' video |
| My heart wrote every single fuckin' song |
| Y’all aren’t my children my kids would be indigo |
| Obviously I’m a fuckin' god |
| Rock with me, awfully cocky, shotgun and coffee |
| Slaughtering lots and I’m offering coffins |
| To anyone caught talkin' sloppy about me, yeah |
| Come rock with the kid |
| Young, poppin' and rich |
| Got dollars, I’m coppin' the drip |
| I’m downing the armour and authoring honour |
| While bombing the targets that karma has missed, hey |
| Y’all don’t comprehend I’m often on the mend |
| I’m depressed a lot, I’ve wrecked a lot of people who were friends |
| I’ve been anxious, I’ve had breakdowns that were all inside my head |
| I regret a lot of things now I won’t stop 'til I’m avenged |
| Knock knock, who’s there? |
| Y’all fucked around and let death in |
| I’m John Lennon, I’m Michael Jackson |
| I’m Cobain, I’m Zeppelin |
| Your best friends are dead ends |
| Your best bets are far-fetched |
| You’re next-best, I’m a gold trophy |
| Your death-threats were ghost stories |