I love you Baby!

The weapon of choice is my bottle of rum
I choose it each time over a gun
My weapon of choice
That bottle every time
Like a moth to a flame
That bottle of rum, a smoke and a line

It hurt me, it saved me
It completely enslaved me
I love it, I hate it
I hoard it, I crave it
My bottle of rum a smoke and a lime

That seed of doubt
That wisp of faith
A flick of the wrist
Shrouded in space
As the water turns salty
And the planet heats up
Can't find enough shifts
To pay for my gas

Hundred ninety three dollars to fill up my truck
Give me my bottle of rum a smoke and a line
I couldn't think straight- It took my whole mind
It took my house, It stole my wife

Coupons, cutting coupons
I'm eagle-eyed for corporate come-ons
Sharp cutting and my pack of cheap bon bons
I'm so broke I'm cutting them coupons

S and H stamps, 40% off
Exactly what to do i'll tell you straight off
Thumbing through papers, lookin for deals
Discount codes are the biggest pay-offs
I can't afford none of the shit that I bought



Credits
Writer(s): Wick Beavers
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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