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Wasted In Paris Lyrics - Artist : Lil Xtra
Yo I'm sick of this life
The way I never do anything right The way that everything I love is just a waste of my time Like I'm cursed to earn everything I've ever deserved I see the way you're hanging on my every word (word) That's pretty cool, I guess Not one to protest money in my pocket or the jealously of old friends Oh man, setbacks piled onto jet lag I'm too fucking tired to be waiting on this checked bag I'm sad as fuck, I want to go home Turn the motherfucking lights off and get stoned I just want to be alone with my thoughts Oh my God not I don't Break away this facade Said I would, but I won't Goddamit, I'm panicking I can't stand it I can't breathe, can't leave, can't handle it, yeah And when I die, leave a candle lit 'Till then you'll find me wherever the fucking camera is Said I'd come through but you know I'm not Gotta lot to do, now this music's all I got Her friend can come too, treat me like the Marriott Blindfold a thot up in my room that's a bird box That's absurd talk, bringing up the obstacles Too short-sighted to be seeing through my optical Smooth sailing like it's nautical, I took the audible Money on the way, now happiness is optional Like the prodigal, I'm coming back No I won't listen to your homie, man, your homie's whack I need a kickback and a lime 'Rona, stat Show up in designer asking "where the marijuana at?" Full send, feeling regal, time to sin again Post legal, coke evil, but we winning shit It's Charlie sheen up in this bitch with a clean dick Got it tested, she impressed so we get it in And I can hear her heart sing with every single scream Went and fell in love the first time that she fucked with me I just wish you would've stuck with me But I guess I get it I don't even motherfucking fuck with me I'm smoking weed in abundancy until I'm stuck Tell me that you miss me but only when you're fucked up The bad luck came and hit me like a Mac track Nothing like the fall from number one to the runner up I'm tryna live life, tryna make some memories Far too focused to be focusing on mini me's Fuck a fake friend that's an enemy I made a couple songs now I'm fucking up the industry How I got here's a mystery to most of you A microphone and hard work, yeah look what I'ma do I feel the jealously welling up inside of you But honestly that's the best part for me, I'm coming through Y'all boring, I'm snoring, man where the party at? Normally I isolate tonight I'm saying fuck that We drown in alcohol and no one brought the life raft Holiday in Paris, fuck depression, time to fight back |
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