Blood on Her Prada

10 stories high up in the night sky
Don't look down or you might die

Cuz the gates to hell
They're paved with gold
Diamonds and Prada up in the white hills

And the devil herself
She wears a tight dress
Red lipstick on a blade
That rests in your fucking chest

Oh fuck
I have problem
I can't feel no more
And there's is blood on her Prada

Let me walk this road
To the church and back
Got forgiven for my sins
But I'm back on track

Everything is so fucked
Now all I do is self-destruct

10 stories high up in the night sky
Don't look down or you might die

Cuz the gates to hell
They're paved with gold
Diamonds and Prada up in the white hills

And the devil herself
She wears a tight dress
Red lipstick on a blade
That rests in your fucking chest

Another night
Tryna catch my flight
To the Hollywood hills, where the sun never shines

Another night
Tryna catch my flight
Click, click boom, it's called suicide

Suicide

Take me away from here



Credits
Writer(s): Daniel Brokke
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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