Letras
God, I'm so fuckin' tired of this shit
Let me, hold on, mm-mm
This fucker
Yo?
Am I, am I good to? (God) the
You busy right now? Or
Yo, what's up? (Listen carefully to me, dumbass, okay)
I can't keep followin' up with you on this, I'm fuckin' busy
But you need to be recordin' songs
Wait (oh my God, yeah, I get it)
This is your fuckin' job
This is your job title, recordin' artist (mhm, mhm)
What the fuck are you doin' without a microphone?
I've been drunk (hey, I've got a great idea)
How about I move to fuckin' Texas for no reason
And don't record any music and do nothin'?
Yeah, listen (don't)
Fuck (Jesus), that shit, that's a terrible idea
Alright, I'm sorry (not releasin' music is almost racist)
What? (I don't have time for this)
I have to go load in to a fuckin' Anaheim show in ten minutes
That Wendigo brought a bunch of fuckin' industry lizards to
So I have to fuckin' take care of all of them (okay)
Fuckin' organize shit (so you, your job)
Do you wanna be sad the rest of your life?
Do you wanna be fuckin' single, probably gay too? (Okay)
Okay, what the fuck are you even talkin' about?
What the fuck do you see in your five-year plan (that was)
Without releasin' any music?
I was thinkin' about it (honestly, get)
You know what? BROKIE sends me a new song every fuckin' day (okay, no)
How about you just do a collab album with her? (No)
You get to do half the work (hey, did I hear my name? No)
Send her a bunch of opens (hey, no)
She'll finish them, make them actually good (hey, hey, let me in, what?)
And then we can fuckin' drop an album (hey, let me in)
There's no way that I'm (uh, ay, Jay)
Oh shit, what up, BLCKK, what's crackin'?
Get (what?) that f-, that -, I stay (oh, oh, oh, oh my)
Mm, get it out, get - our stat-fuckin' - alright s- - (I can't believe you, I can't believe you would say somethin' like, oh, oh, what the?)
If I see that f- alright (fine, shoot me 'bout it, bitch, shoot me 'bout it)