So you say we out of lust
It's adding up
You hate my guts
Was I enough
Was I enough
So you say I drink too much
It's adding up
You hate my guts
Was I enough
Was I enough
Giving up all my
Blood
But you tripping on love
Living on, giving on, wishing on doves
Blood
But you tripping on drugs
Living on, giving on, wishing on doves
What makes you think that angle wings don't numb
What makes you think
That they don't bleed enough blood
Poseidon way I was swimming
Drowning in the bottles but still winning
Oh slide inside of my sinning
Hoping on a feeling she don't hit the ceiling
Intricately grinning offended she been appealing
Been killing the feeling of winning but still in the linen
Living on limit, admit it we gonna hit it
Living on a limit admit it we gonna hit it
So you say we out of lust
It's adding up
You hate my guts
Was I enough
Was I enough
So you say I drink too much
It's adding up
You hate my guts
Was I enough
Was I enough
Giving up all my
Blood
But you tripping on love
Living on, giving on, wiDate on doves
Blood
But you tripping on drugs
Living on, giving on, wishing on doves
What makes you think that angle wings don't numb
What makes you think
That they don't bleed enough blood
Still dozing living inside a motion
Wonder what it means to speak Frank in oceans
These dank emotions
Smoke through the potion
Go thank sultan
I been like Aladdin
King without a crown whose throne you shouldn’t stand in
Fiend without a clone but all you can't stand him
Look at me now
I come accompanied now
I sold my blood for a dollar
For a touch of the town
But they don't know what I gave up to be where I am
They don't know what I gave up to pretend to give a damn
All in all we all involved Molotov’s by the gram
How could I be something I'm not when it's by the plan
So you say we out of lust
It's adding up
You hate my guts
Was I enough
Was I enough
So you say I drink too much
It's adding up
You hate my guts
Was I enough
Was I enough
Giving up all my
Blood
But you tripping on love
Living on, giving on, wishing on doves
Blood
But you tripping on drugs
Living on, giving on, wishing on doves
What makes you think that angle wings don't numb
What makes you think
That they don't bleed enough blood
