I'm talking to myself
I know we're going down
There's whiskey on your lips
But you won't hear me out
I'm talking to myself
Like I'm going insane
You won't hear me out
Why do I still feel this way?
I realise that I've been running from the truth
Had the cards in my hand in a suit
Made a farse but an act was a cue, girl
Eight shots deep in a birthday suit
I'm a player that got played like a flute
She painted love in my head in a fruit
Took me so high with no parachute
Screamed the whole way down but I feel so mute now
I'm the one who's tryna weigh you back to back
Give everything and made you miss the past
I wouldn't press the brakes, you didn't ht the gas
It's funny how the stand still made a collision fast
You try say you're sick of me like stress bro
Then asking me to hang out, baby, yes no
How about we grab a last meal like death row?
Maybe then I could finally learn how to let go, damn
I'm talking to myself
I know we're going down
There's whiskey on your lips
But you won't hear me out
I'm talking to myself
Like I'm going insane
You won't hear me out
Why do I still feel this way?
Six shots in, I got missed calls
Karma really is a b***h whenever it calls
Bloody knuckles from punching out brick walls
Like what the f**k is this for?
I ain't talking straight malls
Heard you put up thick walls, I came in with a sledge shot
I put you in a pen house, you put me on a ledge
Since you are either pissed of, you put me on edge
You gave me cold feet, you walking through my head
Even took away my breath
Now I'm suffocating
Always under pressure and it's over taking
Put in all this effort, you disregard I'm making
Only get your pleasure when my back is breaking
From the weight you expect me to carry
Like Ryan, you happy? I'm very
'Cause if I said our love is buried
How quick you ghost it, it's scary
So I'l keep on swallowing pride 'till I'm drowned in you
So full of shit, how your stomach is growling
Said all that I hear in my ears is the pounding
And my heart gives every alarm, it's been sounding
You put all these walls up, I thought it's your house
But we're fine in public, that shit is astounding
That's why I'm so lonely when we're up in crowd
'Cause that's when the people don't hear that we're shouting
I'm talking to myself
I know we're going down
There's whiskey on your lips
But you won't hear me out
I'm talking to myself
Like I'm going insane
You won't hear me out
Why do I still feel this way?
You bang my line when it's half past nine
And I might just blow my brain
You want that cocked back, with a bad recoil, girl, I might just go Cobain
Go ahead, take eight shots
All the drinks you bought, make sure you feel no pain
Every time you b***h you might burn that bridge
You the match, I'll be the propane
