GLORY*

Ex-girlfriend thinks that I'm fucked up
I am
Mom thinks that I keep a gun tucked
Yes, ma'am

My best friend thinks that I'm off one
My dad thinks I don't care to call him
My old friends think that I've lost my head

Oh, my God, shut the fuck up
It's like, all my life, been a fuck-up
Who do you really think you are? (Ah, I'm tell 'em)

I'm so fucked up, I can barely stand straight
I'm 'bout it, 'bout it, I'ma laugh until my last day
I'm so fucked up, I can barely stand straight
I'm 'bout it, 'bout it, I'ma laugh until my last day

Young bull might be crazy
Young bull might be shady
Young bull, young bull
Young bull might fade away
Young bull might kill a matador

I'm not crazy, hallelujah
Tell my mama I don't need no shooter
I ain't missing, not a shot, huh, thanks a lot, huh
Blocka, blocka, pull my body out the devil locker, like

I'm so fucked up, I can barely stand straight
I'm 'bout it, 'bout it, I'ma laugh until my last day
I'm so fucked up, I can barely stand straight
I'm 'bout it, 'bout it, I'ma laugh until my last day

Young bull might be crazy
Young bull might be shady
Young bull might fade away
Young bull might kill a matador

Young bull might be crazy
Young bull might be shady
Young bull might fade away
Young bull might kill a matador

I'm so fucked up, I can barely stand straight
I'm 'bout it, 'bout it, I'ma laugh until my last day
I'm so fucked up, I can barely stand straight
I'm 'bout it, 'bout it, I'ma laugh until my last day, oh



Credits
Writer(s): David Sanders, Zach Fogarty, Wyatt Bernard, Austin Dale Corona
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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