Gucci Sweaters, old love letters
Hurt myself tryna make you better
And I hate ‘em now
Yeah I really hate ‘em now
God almighty, fucked your psyche
Loved yourself more than anybody
Is that working out?
Yeah, tell me how that’s working out
I burned all your birthday cards
Threw your shit out in the year
By the way, by the way, by the way
Yeah, you ain’t no porn star baby
Yeah, you are kinda lazy
And I was always faking with you
Yeah, you ain’t no porn star baby
Yeah, you are kinda lazy
And I was always faking with you
I feel sorry for the next girl
Cause you’ll never be rocking her
Well does it make you mad?
Tell me, does it make you mad?
You walk around, too big for your head
But you got nothing that you’re packing
Does it make you sad?
Tell me, does it make you sad?
I hate all your stupid friends
You act like you one of them
By the way, by the way, by the way
Yeah, you ain’t no porn star baby
Yeah, you are kinda lazy
And I was always faking with you
Yeah, you ain’t no porn star baby
Yeah, you are kinda lazy
And I was always faking with you
Won’t pick up your clothes
You know how it goes, we’re over
I promise I’m good
I don’t really need the closure
Now you’re the ex
So don’t try to text me this late
Don’t flatter yourself
We both know we wasn’t great
Yeah, you ain’t no porn star baby
Yeah, you are kinda lazy
And I was always faking with you
Yeah, you ain’t no porn star baby
Yeah, you are kinda lazy
And I was always faking with you
Gucci Sweaters, old love letters
Hurt myself tryna make you better
And I hate ‘em now