Tell Me I'm Pretty (Bethamphetamine Pt 2)

I think they named her Donna
She had X-ray eyes
She could see right through your bullshit
But lived her own set of lies
Two piece of plastic parents
Divorced and competitive
And champagne problems
Like in which beach house they should live

Now, please don't make me be the one
With truth that throws a punch
That money gonna cut your legs off
When you use it as a crutch
At 4 a.m. a coked-up stranger
Brings your pearls to clutch
As you beg for anyone, anyone to say

Tell me I'm pretty, yeah (pretty, pretty)
Tell me I'm pretty, oh-oh (pretty, pretty)
Tell me I'm pretty, hey (pretty, pretty)
Tell me I'm pretty (pretty, pretty)

Well, I remember your heavy tears
The day that daddy sold the boat
All your hangers-on consoled you
Like a Sunday horoscope
Now they hang out with the girl
Whose daddy bought the boat from yours
Not one of them will call you
But you're still on the old brochure

Don't wanna be the one to tell you
That they're all two-faced
Wedged underneath a desk
Just like the gum that's lost it's taste
Yeah, four a.m., a rom-com movie
Makes your makeup run
As you beg for anyone, anyone to say

Tell me I'm pretty (pretty, pretty)
Tell me I'm pretty, oh-oh (pretty, pretty)
Tell me I'm pretty, hey (pretty, pretty)
Tell me I'm pretty (pretty, pretty), pretty fucked up

Tell me I'm pretty, hey (pretty, pretty)
Tell me I'm pretty, oh-oh (pretty, pretty)
Tell me I'm pretty, hey (pretty, pretty)
Tell me I'm pretty (pretty, pretty) hey!

I'm having fun doing it
Yeah, we'll do, uhm, one more?
Cool (like, "Sister Christian")
Hahaha (hahaha)
You guys ready?
Three, four



Credits
Writer(s): Butch Walker, Morgan Kirby
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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