It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me
At teatime, everybody agrees
I'll stare directly at the Sun, but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby
And I'm a monster on the hill
Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city
Pierced through the heart, but never killed
Pimpin' in my convos
Bubbles in my champagne, let it be some jazz playin'
Top floor motel suite, twistin' my cigars
Floor model TV with the VCR
Got rubies in my damn chain
Whip ain't got no gas tank, but it still got woodgrain
Got your girl working for me
Hit the strip and my bills paid, that keep my bills paid
Hit the strip and my bills paid, keep a ni**a bills paid
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.