Released: November 18, 2015
Songwriter: Scott Arceneaux Jr. Aristos Petrou
Producer: Budd Dwyer
[Verse 1: RUBY DA CHERRY]
I got a drip, catch me duckin'
All of these bitches ain't fucking me, no
Can't hold a conversation with no one but my cousin
He tell me, "Don't worry, the money is comin'
These bitches is coming"
Yeah
The only question I got now, will I see it before I end up dug in the ground?
Lay low at the bottom of a tulip bed
They know Ruby got a lot of useless thread
Cut me open, let me rest, there ain't nothin' in my chest
A hollow cage that caused my death
I'm hauled away, just pause my breath
[Verse 2: YUNG $CARECROW]
Woke up dope sick with a cut wrist
Lil' bad bitch saying, "here's a plot twist"
When you cut it, you weren't even a little pissed
Just a grin on your face, saying, "watch this!"
Now I'm sittin' back thinkin' how sick am I?
But that went away the moment I got high
I'm saying now, "what it do, who are you?
Get the fuck out my living room
Get the fuck out my mental too
What, bitch? You can't hear when I talk to you?"
Now I'm back to square one, with my hand on the gun
Mama screaming, "Son, don't do it—I love you, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it"
I can't help this feeling
Don't you see that I need all these prescriptions?
This ain't no living
It's only a vision of the vicious cycle that is my addiction
I got a drip, catch me duckin'
All of these bitches ain't fucking me, no
Can't hold a conversation with no one but my cousin
He tell me, "Don't worry, the money is comin'
These bitches is coming"
Yeah
The only question I got now, will I see it before I end up dug in the ground?
Lay low at the bottom of a tulip bed
They know Ruby got a lot of useless thread
Cut me open, let me rest, there ain't nothin' in my chest
A hollow cage that caused my death
I'm hauled away, just pause my breath
[Verse 2: YUNG $CARECROW]
Woke up dope sick with a cut wrist
Lil' bad bitch saying, "here's a plot twist"
When you cut it, you weren't even a little pissed
Just a grin on your face, saying, "watch this!"
Now I'm sittin' back thinkin' how sick am I?
But that went away the moment I got high
I'm saying now, "what it do, who are you?
Get the fuck out my living room
Get the fuck out my mental too
What, bitch? You can't hear when I talk to you?"
Now I'm back to square one, with my hand on the gun
Mama screaming, "Son, don't do it—I love you, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it"
I can't help this feeling
Don't you see that I need all these prescriptions?
This ain't no living
It's only a vision of the vicious cycle that is my addiction
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