I gotta lot to say
Don't listen to what I say
'Cause every feeling that I fucking feel is never honest, babe, never honest, babe
Like woah, oh
I've been following the breeze so let me fucking go
Let me go, let me go, I've been trying to find the road
If you get up in my whip with me we'll head to my abode
So baby what you doing? I just wanna go home
I can scoop you like whenever, take you back home in the morn
Like
We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
I said we could fucking make it out
Grabbed me by the face and kiss me, then we started making out
I was listening to DGD and it was raining out
Voices in my head been asking "What are you complaining 'bout?"
'Cause everything is golden, I've been in my zone and if you wanna roll we could smoke it later
Live inside this moment, write it and compose it, italicize and bold it, to formulate a
Time to recall, the door down the hall, another
Sorta prequel to fit the sequel, I kinda
Sorta feel small, not noticed at all, until I
Wrote a song for it, I wrote a song for it
Here's how it goes, a bunch of weed smoke, I panic
Start to feel so sick down to my toes, I'm manic
Time just feels slow, it comes and it goes, the static
Is all I see though, as I decompose, how tragic
How tragic
Yeah, how tragic
Yeah, how tragic
Yeah
Let me go, let me go, I've been trying to find the road
If you get up in my whip with me we'll head to my abode
So baby what you doing? I just wanna go home
I can scoop you like whenever, take you back home in the morn
Like
We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
We, we, we, we, we could fucking make it out
