Carter, Pick Up (I Wanna Talk Shit) Songtext
von Carter‐senpai
Carter, Pick Up (I Wanna Talk Shit) Songtext
Why are we at war again?
Why you locked the door again?
Why you always looking on the dark side, Morrigan?
Naming all these men
Prognosticating what could′ve been
Could've had all of ′em niggas
But you want me more than them
I ain't mad you called me cheap
We both broke- you just pretend
We was just raised a lil' different
E.g., My pops don′t pay my rent
And I love your ass to death
But your love language is spend
And I tend to tilt a little
When my balance start descending
Gucci, Gucci
Louis, Louis Fendi, Fendi
Prada
You slay in all designer
But you dead don′t cop me nada
Face could launch a thousand ships
Punani drown the whole Armada
But I'm trying to move in silence
You pronouncing it la-zog-na
Thank Pasta
You sent me crying home to
Mama mia!
Why you blowing up my phone?
Breaking up was your idea
We both reclaimed our freedom
Amistad, we can′t do neither
So exactly like we feared
This ends with senior year
(What do you want?)
(Yo, you blowing up my fucking phone)
(Oh, word? What?)
(What?)
(Yo, you deadass blowing up my phone right now)
(Ok)
(What? Alright- hold on)
(What do you want?)
(I'm coming! Aight)
(Damn, nigga)
(Aight- you know what?)
(Bet)
You said you wanted the truth
That was a lie
Your status quo- ulterior motives
Thinly masked behind denial
This simple inquiry has
Quickly turned into a trial
Why you always think
There′s a new chick I got my eye on?
Why you can't control your
Fucking urge to fucking spy on?
You know what? It′s my fault
For running my fucking pie-hole
A long time ago I learned
It's best to keep my mind closed
'Cause you could you dish it out
But got no appetite for my woes
And you could hit up Twitter or something
Give your side- expose a nigga or something
I ain′t fronting, it should be cutting
When I go and chop it up with the mic
But I ain′t you- this therapeutic
I ain't talking to spite
I′m getting rid of my residual feelings
My heart's detritus
We played a stupid game
Neither one of us was prizes
I′m just tight 'cause you was right
And I′m pathetic in hindsight
Airing grievances now
'Cause I didn't want to fight
(What do you want?)
(Yo, you blowing up my fucking phone)
(Oh, word? What?)
(What?)
(Yo, you deadass blowing up my phone right now)
(Ok)
(What? Alright- hold on)
(What do you want?)
(I′m coming! Aight)
(Damn, nigga)
(Aight- you know what?)
(Bet)
Why you locked the door again?
Why you always looking on the dark side, Morrigan?
Naming all these men
Prognosticating what could′ve been
Could've had all of ′em niggas
But you want me more than them
I ain't mad you called me cheap
We both broke- you just pretend
We was just raised a lil' different
E.g., My pops don′t pay my rent
And I love your ass to death
But your love language is spend
And I tend to tilt a little
When my balance start descending
Gucci, Gucci
Louis, Louis Fendi, Fendi
Prada
You slay in all designer
But you dead don′t cop me nada
Face could launch a thousand ships
Punani drown the whole Armada
But I'm trying to move in silence
You pronouncing it la-zog-na
Thank Pasta
You sent me crying home to
Mama mia!
Why you blowing up my phone?
Breaking up was your idea
We both reclaimed our freedom
Amistad, we can′t do neither
So exactly like we feared
This ends with senior year
(What do you want?)
(Yo, you blowing up my fucking phone)
(Oh, word? What?)
(What?)
(Yo, you deadass blowing up my phone right now)
(Ok)
(What? Alright- hold on)
(What do you want?)
(I'm coming! Aight)
(Damn, nigga)
(Aight- you know what?)
(Bet)
You said you wanted the truth
That was a lie
Your status quo- ulterior motives
Thinly masked behind denial
This simple inquiry has
Quickly turned into a trial
Why you always think
There′s a new chick I got my eye on?
Why you can't control your
Fucking urge to fucking spy on?
You know what? It′s my fault
For running my fucking pie-hole
A long time ago I learned
It's best to keep my mind closed
'Cause you could you dish it out
But got no appetite for my woes
And you could hit up Twitter or something
Give your side- expose a nigga or something
I ain′t fronting, it should be cutting
When I go and chop it up with the mic
But I ain′t you- this therapeutic
I ain't talking to spite
I′m getting rid of my residual feelings
My heart's detritus
We played a stupid game
Neither one of us was prizes
I′m just tight 'cause you was right
And I′m pathetic in hindsight
Airing grievances now
'Cause I didn't want to fight
(What do you want?)
(Yo, you blowing up my fucking phone)
(Oh, word? What?)
(What?)
(Yo, you deadass blowing up my phone right now)
(Ok)
(What? Alright- hold on)
(What do you want?)
(I′m coming! Aight)
(Damn, nigga)
(Aight- you know what?)
(Bet)
Writer(s): Anthony Carter Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
