Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Phé
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Natasha Pheko
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jaime Estalella Giron
Producer
Brett White
Producer
Lyrics
What kind of days are good to talk about it?
Burning all my issues at the end of a cigarette
(Please don't tell me papa)
I need a doctor, need and Advil, need a chiropractor just to stand straight
But every time I’m up can’t seem to shake it off
How come I can't shake this off?
Still I know you will treat me right on my worst days
(When I’m acting like a child, wanna call my mama)
And I can’t pretend that I’m okay
(said I’m okay)
Since the truth is spreading its wings
I hate that most mornings I wake up fucking lonely
Still I know you will treat me right on my worst days
Seems I’m always rushing down a highway
(I’m always trying to catch up)
Stressing, working harder, working faster
Tryna make it my way
(Telling myself that I like it)
I say I’ll try to behave
I even do well for days
But then I’m falling right back
So when you’re telling me you're sick of my shit just know I feel that
Still I know you will treat me right on my worst days
(When I’m acting like a child, wanna call my mama)
And I can’t pretend that I’m okay
(said I’m okay)
Since the truth is spreading its wings
I hate that most mornings I wake up fucking lonely
Still I know you will treat me right on my worst days
I been tryna forget about it
Ya I get upset about it
Caught in my moments
I never could own em
Still got no regret about this
(Cause its so damn easy to hurt when you do it alone, uh oh)
Still I know you will treat me right on my worst days
(When I’m acting like a child, wanna call my mama)
And I can’t pretend that I’m okay
(said I’m okay)
Since the truth is spreading its wings
I hate that most mornings I wake up fucking lonely
Still I know you will treat me right on my worst days
Written by: Natasha Pheko