Gaiti Ibagari (Sip Sip) (feat. Loria Clarke)

((It's King King)
(Nah, nah, ah, ah, ah, ah)

Paradise somewhere on earth
But not where I'm at
Tryna pick up the pieces
That you ripped from my heart
My heart as cold as my wrist and my neck
Girl, I don't know which one
Which one am I putting in this cup?
And I've been sipping, I've been missing
I've been missing you
And I've been vibin' to Drizzy's Marvins Room
Just me and my cup
I'm fucked over, over you
I'm fucked over, over you (you)

I sip, sip, sip, sip
Baby, I sip cause you
Look what you made me do
Baby, I'm fucked over

I sip, sip, sip, sip
Baby, I sip cause you
Look what you made me do
Baby, I'm fucked over

Is it too late, too late, too late, too late
To say I'm sorry?
Is it too late, too late, too late
To stop you from sipping Bacardi
I know it's my fault, so I apologize
Like Sam Smith, I'm not good at goodbyes
It's just not the same
I put you through much pain
Know that might someday
Be a price I'll have to pay
It's just not the same
Man I put you through much pain
And I just know someday
Be a price I'll have to pay

I sip, sip, sip, sip
Baby, I sip cause you
Look what you made me do
Baby, I'm fucked over

I sip, sip, sip, sip
Baby, I sip cause you
Look what you made me do
Baby, I'm fucked over

Brr, Brr, I pull up with Mah Breddas
Brr, Brr, we pull out them berettas
Gyal, you can't leave me lonely
You wah dead or wah?
Gyal, wah gain' on you can't do me like that
Shots, shots, shots, shots
Going to your man's top
Like a bad chune, you haffi run that back
I'm looking for you with mah shottas
Your batty bwoy haffi watch out for we

Girl, you're my weed (Girl, you're my weed)
You're what I need
Nothing in this life
Gets me high like you do
A haffi pull up, pull up

Girl, you're my weed (Girl, you're my weed)
You're what I need
Nothing in this life
Gets me high like you do
A haffi pull up, pull up

I sip, sip, sip, sip
Baby, I sip cause you
Look what you made me do
Baby, I'm fucked over

I sip, sip, sip, sip
Baby, I sip cause you
Look what you made me do
Baby, I'm fucked over

Is it too late, too late, too late, too late
To say I'm sorry?
Is it too late, too late, too late
To stop you from sipping Bacardi
I know it's my fault, so I apologize
Like Sam Smith, I'm not good at goodbyes