baby face it i'm tasteless what time do you get off
you could scoff or we could get stupid and puke it off
two for talk i'm talking about maybe more of those
maybe war, maybe coke, maybe a wardrobe
And what you want from me, you tell it to your room
to your tomb in tune with every rumor than you consume
It's june somewhere, so baby take it off
naked loft music two could make it we're making off,
with the money and power the greed is too strong, too long
the new shit, got them feeling too gone
so now we're penthouse down in the basement complacent with space but you're faced with amazement
everytime, cause i leave with my eyes closed
why those tears over ascics just tie those
Shoes and be gone
The beacons, the neon lights keep flashing and asking if she's gone
I hope you're changing baby into a good girl
I could hurl from all the good times you wasted
