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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tom MacDonald
Tom MacDonald
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tom MacDonald
Tom MacDonald
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tom MacDonald
Tom MacDonald
Producer

Lyrics

Honestly, y'all have been killin' my confidence All of the negative comments and gossip It's hard to imagine the stress that I'm under I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for all of this I'm sorry for spittin' the truth, sorry for dissin' that dude Sorry for missin' the point of the criticism, I was blinded by diamonds and loot I apologize to all you guys, y'all were right, I was out my mind I went too far, I did too much, the haters were right when they said I suck I did my best, it did nothin' for me, I gave my guts and got lost in glory I'm standin' here while you sit before me, there's nothin' left but to say, "I'm sorry" Sorry, that doesn't bother me, I don't owe anybody an apology I don't have no regrets in my biology Reload and shoot for the stars, y'all look like astronomy No one as hot as me, copy me commonly Wannabes, y'all are so shockingly comedy Carry the weight of my songs all on top of me I will not break, I'm not made outta pottery Bury your bodies on acres of property Place 'em at angles like sacred geometry Done with the modesty, everythin' I drop is quality Promise, like honestly, follow me I ain't gonna stop with the hits, come rock with the kid, on lock like 'Pac woulda been I'm a God with the pen, no concept of quit, got guap 'cause I'm awesome at this Underrated, overpaid, they hate it, complicated calculations made to rake the paper Razor-sharp like blades in Freddy versus Jason, angels in my heart and Satan in the basement Brains and handsome face is what has made me famous, great imagination, fatal combination Labels holla daily, I've been on vacation, basic translation is, "I don't give a fuck" Sorry, I got a point of view, it's like a pistol you don't wanna point at you Y'all are annoyin', dude, y'all are like rats racin' in a gas-chamber, y'all can't avoid the fumes Y'all in a cage locked, my deranged thoughts are like Ray Charles Wavin' chainsaws get your brain chopped, into eight parts, 'til your face off Hit the graveyard on my days off, I just cock, aim, and I spray shots 'Til your legs lock and your veins pop, in a day's work, y'all get laid off My girl shot every single fuckin' video, my heart wrote every single fuckin' song Y'all aren't my children, my kids would be indigo, obviously, I'm a fuckin' God Rock with me, awfully cocky, cock at the goblin? Shotgunnin' coffee Slaughterin' lots, and I'm offerin' coffins to anyone caught talkin' sloppy about me, yeah Come rock with the kid, young, poppin' and rich, got dollars, I'm coppin' the drip I'm donnin' the armor and authorin' honor, while bombin' the targets that karma has missed, ay Y'all don't comprehend I'm often on the mend I'm depressed a lot, I've wrecked a lot of people who were friends I've been anxious, I've had breakdowns that were all inside my head I regret a lot of things, now I won't stop 'til I'm avenged Knock-knock, who's there? Y'all fucked around and let death in I'm John Lennon, I'm Michael Jackson, I'm Cobain, I'm Zeppelin Your best friends are dead ends, your best bets are far-fetched You're next-best, I'm a gold trophy, your death threats were ghost stories
Writer(s): Thomas Macdonald Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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