picture.
Interviews are like confessions
Get the fuck up out my dressing room, confusing me with questions like
Do you love this shit? Are you high right now? Do you ever get nervous?
Are you single? I heard you fucked your girl, is it true?
You getting money? You think them niggas you with is with you?
And I say hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah, fuckin' right, fuckin' right, alright
And we say hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah, fuckin' right, fuckin' right, alright
So much for being optimistic, they say love is in the air, so I
Hold my breath until my face turn purple,
I gave her pills, she started confessing and started undressing and ask me to hold her
And so I did, but that was last month and now she's texting me asking for closure
what a great song.