Love & Affection
Gasoline pour
On the blood-covered floor
If you hating, hit the door
Also, hater, hit the store
Cuz you looking hella poor
Buy some new clothes, or
A new attitude, whore
Got you mad mad to the core
I don't give a fuck no more
Can't bring your fake ass on tour
Wanna pin you to the floor
And show you my pain more and more
Leave your whole ass body sore
When I slam you in the door
Golf club at your head like fore
Bitch I'm sniffing petrichor, aye
Fuck your shit up to the point of no return
Didn't wanna do it to you, but it's what you earned
Bitch I stay winning and there won't be no turns
Teaching you a lesson but you don't seem to learn
You keep tryna fight back
You ain't on the right track
Charisma, I provide that
While I sit and write raps
And write tracks
Nothing ever seems to work out in my favor
If I kill myself now, then it won't matter later
Grip the handgun, a certain feeling rushes over me
Whether it's safety or danger, it starts controlling me
Grip the handgun, a certain feeling rushes over me
When you see me pull that shit out, you write an ode to me
Fuck everything up, pull the trigger, let it rip, uh
Take the footage of the murder, fucking edit it, uh
Lace his fucking drink, cyanide pill like sediment, uh
Bitch we throwing riots, going dumb, no etiquette, uh
Break everything I touch, I was forced into this pit, uh
Fuck your whole family and fuck that ornament, uh
I can't feel my body, all I feel like is shit, uh
Grab me by the hair and throw me into the crick, uh
On the blood-covered floor
If you hating, hit the door
Also, hater, hit the store
Cuz you looking hella poor
Buy some new clothes, or
A new attitude, whore
Got you mad mad to the core
I don't give a fuck no more
Can't bring your fake ass on tour
Wanna pin you to the floor
And show you my pain more and more
Leave your whole ass body sore
When I slam you in the door
Golf club at your head like fore
Bitch I'm sniffing petrichor, aye
Fuck your shit up to the point of no return
Didn't wanna do it to you, but it's what you earned
Bitch I stay winning and there won't be no turns
Teaching you a lesson but you don't seem to learn
You keep tryna fight back
You ain't on the right track
Charisma, I provide that
While I sit and write raps
And write tracks
Nothing ever seems to work out in my favor
If I kill myself now, then it won't matter later
Grip the handgun, a certain feeling rushes over me
Whether it's safety or danger, it starts controlling me
Grip the handgun, a certain feeling rushes over me
When you see me pull that shit out, you write an ode to me
Fuck everything up, pull the trigger, let it rip, uh
Take the footage of the murder, fucking edit it, uh
Lace his fucking drink, cyanide pill like sediment, uh
Bitch we throwing riots, going dumb, no etiquette, uh
Break everything I touch, I was forced into this pit, uh
Fuck your whole family and fuck that ornament, uh
I can't feel my body, all I feel like is shit, uh
Grab me by the hair and throw me into the crick, uh
Credits
Writer(s): Colin Hayes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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