LONDON FOG

Trip on a Tuesday, fuck it
Tripped on my shoelace stuntin' yea
I got no blue face, nothin'
I got maybe like a buck and some change
I know I ain't really makin' enough change
I ain't really provin nothin' to nothin' or no one,
Assuming there's something I owe one,
Fuck it.

London fog
Good morning sun
I need a london fog latte to run it up
I'm mourning the morning sun

Wonder what am I?
Get the blunt burned to the third degree
(You smoke too much)
I'm a different pedigree,
Better breed, better when shmacked
(Yea right)
Can you reach out?
(Aight)
Can you try a few times?
(Cap)
I swear I'll call back
I know I'm pourin up too early as of lately
Hold me down I hope that you could change me
I ain't notice you was on the same thing
I'm not sure we'd make it past a maybe

Trip on a Tuesday, fuck it
Trip on a Tuesday, fuck it
Fuck it

London fog
Good morning sun
I need a london fog latte to run it up
I'm mourning the morning sun

I know I've been
I know i've been
I know i've been
Trippin', trippin', trippin'
I can't hide my feelings
Think I need a minute
Think I need a minute

Feeling her like spicy food
Won't phone me she wanted a nice ring too
Both lonely she been in an ice cream mood
Just slide,I might even like seafood

Both lonely she been in an ice cream mood
Just slide, I might even like seafood

Feeling her like spicy food
Won't phone me she wanted a nice ring too
Both lonely she been in an ice cream mood
No secrets she know me and I scream too



Credits
Writer(s): Jack Lofchie Hallenbeck, Rahul Singh
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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