Sins

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, run it back one time
Yeah

I feel like Pierre the way I'm in the stu
They can look but they can't touch
And they can't fuck, man it's cool
I been cooking in the studio that blue shit
This that blue shit, that crystal, that new shit
Platinum every album, now they fuck with me
That's nothing new, aye

Tell me something I don't already do
Like kill this shit, I'm killing this track, killing these drums, bitch
Yeah, and I can't ever fuck with no dumb bitch
Aye, and I'm just aiming up 'til I'm dumb rich
That's 151 Rum up in my cup, do this for fun, bitch
Yeah, and I don't really wanna have to turn around
Yeah, but I left two bad bitches back out of town

Gotta go get 'em
I gotta, I got, I got something to give 'em
She feelin my rhythm
I'm giving her venom all over her denim
A lil freaky ting, like Drake I dm 'em
Then act like I ain't know a thing, I forget 'em
Tom Brady noose for a ring
I remember the weather was chilly when it was December
I'm writing her letters, I'm fighting forever
I'm doing the best that I can, never settle
I fight for her hand to be held, shit can never get better
I'm making her wetter, that's just my vendetta
For taking my heart and then stomping it out on the ground like whatever
You say you love me, I guess its been hard
To live on without me, I'm really a star
Sipping on henny, I love Wokhardt, bitch

Yeah she wanna link again
I ain't been doing shit all day
I told her maybe it's a sin
I'd rather get high all day
Yeah she wanna link again
I ain't been doing shit all day
I'd rather get high all day
I told her maybe it's a sin



Credits
Writer(s): Brayden Calendar
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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