What's your problem?
Bitch, I dress like a whore, grump on to the floor, no fun with niggas.
I'ma pull the fucking trigger And I really, really, really wanna dress up like
But I really, really, really wanna stab you in the gut
For the fucker through the night Show her that I was
Wanna use him like a kite Guess I might put a hole into his eye
Suicide, blood and nails It looks so bloody red
I keep wanting more Shut the, shut the door
They call me addicted, it's just bottles on the floor And I know it seems a lot, but I'm
So glad I died this far.
I just had this one thing.
I don't know it anymore.
I won't throw back my dreams.
I'm gonna be out back All my fucking mistakes I'm gonna take back I'm done I swear to fuck my brain out
We'll be right back.
i think i'm gonna kill myself
Bob is adding to the choice That the needle ain't precise
I'm taking all the fun.
And I wish you know what it takes.
All I read is fucking fakes.
They all think that you're a snake.
Of your fucking face I love that white dress that you're still wearing Turn it around
Baby, don't leave me behind or you might just end up dead.
I know you hate scrolling through your feed.
You can't sleep without me.
I get fucked up then I leave.
It's a daily routine.
Mix my app with some coke, I'm getting cross.
With my friends and I'm too busy havin' fun, wait no more My legs are awaking, I need a private door Shawty, please pass me some water before I pass on the floor What's your problem, bitch?
I dress like a whore, jump on to the floor No, I'm a figure, I'ma pull the fuckin' trigger And I really, really, really wanna dress up like a slut
But I really, really, really wanna stab you in the gut Yes, I'm fine
I wanna fuck her through the night Show her that I wanna fight
Wanna use it like a kite Guess I might Put a hole into the side
Suicide, blood and nails It is a salarian