Old No. 7 (feat. G-Eazy)

It's that old number seven, always got me feeling heavenly

Fucking me, you ain't fit to have a drink with me

There's dirty lies around here, there's dirty highs too

Ain't no telling what they fuck what a dirty mind do

It's whiskey baby, and we ain't fucking pop stars

Fucking rocks stars, no vodka with Rock Star

There's no colours, and it's only black around town

Hold the wheel, I think I'm really fucking coming down

Liability for the team but what you expect

They told me finish your arms before you tattoo your neck

I said finish your job before you tell me that

I'ma finish this drink and I ain't coming back

Seven fifty sour match to go and get the sour patch

Problems always stem from the relationships of our past

Thanks Dad, it really means a lot

How the fuck could I ever think, I be something that you're not huh

Even if I got a place to go

And it's hard to ever call it home

And it's hard to ever call you up

See I rather drink all alone

And that's that shit we're pouring up

And here's a toast to fucking up

So mom and dad expect a call

And we been sorry all along

And that's that shit we're pouring up

And here's a toast to fucking ups

So mom and dad, expect a call

And we been sorry all along

Keep on living faster

Only kids trying not to go out like Casper

Ever night plastered, a beautiful disaster

Sorry that I did it, yeah I know I'm a bastard

Yeah, Jack Daniels taking pulls from the handle

Straight to the head and and a pre-filed panel

Surround by the party, and the drugs and the scandal

Can't die before I get to see a Grammy on my mantle

But the pace is fast and only speeding up

Bottle's in my hand so I don't need a cup

I should call my old girl, come and clean me up

But I call my dealer, so now I'm re-ing up

Yeah, I'm a fuck up, yeah I know it's true

Probably never learn to live the way that grown-ups do

Bad decision fuck the standard, that you hold me to

Drink away what I'm going through yeah

And that's that shit we're pouring up

And here's a toast to fucking up

So mom and dad expect a call

And we been sorry all along

And that's that shit we're pouring up

And here's a toast to fucking up

So mom and dad expect a call

And we been sorry all along

Drinking that whiskey, that old number seven

White lighter and pocket, I'm going to heaven

I'm rolling, I'm sowing a hole, it's upsetting

My heart, it is stolen, my soul is just different

I'm drink that whiskey that old number seven

White lighter and pocket, I'm going to heaven

I'm rolling, I'm sowing a hole, it's upsetting

My heart, it is stolen, my soul is just different

And that's that shit we're pouring up

And here's a toast to fucking ups

So mom and dad expect a call

And we been sorry all along

And that's that shit we're pouring up

And here's a toast to fucking ups

So mom and dad expect a call

And we been sorry all along