American Problem
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Lyrics
Could you (Could you) try (Ooh, now, now, now) To remember what you said tonight? Do you remember how high we was? (Ooh, boy) If I, if I don't want to say sorry (If I don't want to) Then, nigga, I won't (Aye-ya-ya-ya-ya) Motherfuck a high road (Aye-ya-ya-ya-ya) As it closes− Who touchin' now, who touchin' now, who touchin' my bag? You're hurtin' me bad, I ain't seen the glass—it's the summer I ain't goin' bad, better believe in that, had to creep in fast Think I'm finna burn it, burn it to the ground, bruh I drink, I smoke, I drink, I smoke, I drink until I sleep (You gotta pass the thing over her) I know, I know, I know, I know This shit gon' catch up to me (Yeah, yeah, yeah shawty, I−) I drink, I smoke, I drink, I smoke, I drink until I sleep (You gotta pass the thing over her) I know, I know, I know, I know Red wine gon' catch up to me (West Side, red, red wine) I can't sleep next to no one Who don't look like, who don't look like you ♪ And all my girlfriends, they tell me "Well you would've been better if you picked someone who was just like you" (Who touchin' now, who touchin' now, who touchin' my mind?) You gotta pass the thing over her Yeah, yeah, yeah, shawty, I− (Microphone check, check, one, two) You gotta pass the thing over her (Microphone check, check, one, two) Yeah, shawty, West Side, yeah, West Side, shawty Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I'm stuck in the van with a mask on Think about takin' my life, but the plan's wrong Think about findin' a way to make the sand go, gone I need another song to sing along to Ninth grade, Tyler was the illest shit I ever heard Goin' to his concerts, no mask, singin' every word I think it's kinda crazy how my life panned out I think it sucks that you and I ain't work out I used to sleep on Jon's couch, sayin' I'll be out this bitch sooner than later 17, I said I was gon' make some shit that was gon' be bigger than the FADER I wanna be Paramount I wanna move far away and buy my parents a house I was obsessed with a blouse, I just liked the way it looked I thought a brother was cute He was older than his dawg—I was breakin' the rules I was a flamin' faggot, that's what the principal called me Not to my face, but I felt when I was stuck in his office I'm just a, I'm just another American problem, my nigga Uh, uh, yeah, uh Another American problem
Audio Features
Song Details
- Duration
- 03:11
- Key
- 5
- Tempo
- 79 BPM