lirik lagu donda – sadbalmain
[intro: surf]
i love you, balmain
love promises (our way is not our way)
when i get drunk, i feel like dyin’, when i get drunk, i feel like dyin’ (i’m telling it to you, dyin’)
when i get drunk, i feel like dyin’
[chorus: surf]
i’m goin’ industry now
all of these n*ggas my enemies now
all of these hoes is into me now
designer, my clothes, they fittin’ me now
my b*tch in her head, she fillin’ me out
the thots in my phone, they feelin’ me now
the thoughts in my head, they k!llin’ me now
i miss her, i guess she missin’ me now
[post*chorus: surf]
missin’ my mama, i treat her like donda
beat up the block, i’ma treat it like ronda
kick the b*tch out of the crib like soccer
trigger too hairy, it feel like chewbacca
i put all the pain in drugs and music
sometimes i wonder why i bother
sometimes i wonder why i’m alive
can’t find myself, don’t got no genre
[verse: surf]
d*mn, i gotta k!ll for survival (d*mn)
they wanna put me back in an asylum (yeah)
they put me on pills and said i was wildin’ (yeah, oh)
do what i want, don’t got no guidance (on god)
she eatin’ me up, she treat me like trident (on god)
i’m sippin’ on vodka, might get violent (on god)
i stayed in the trap, feel like bin laden (on god)
i f*ck with the office, i win like biden
yeah, i’m an american psycho
pray to the bible, i’m not an idol
so many lasers, built like a light show
so much paper, won’t fit my bifold
i leave him dead on arrival, why would i show any mercy to rivals? (i love you, balmain)
i’ll make an unknown b*tch my bridal
don’t wanna sip no lean, don’t like it (it’s the real [?], b*tch)
[chorus: surf]
i’m goin’ industry now
all of these n*ggas my enemies now
all of these hoes is into me now
designer, my clothes, they fittin’ me now
my b*tch in her head, she fillin’ me out
the thots in my phone, they feelin’ me now
the thoughts in my head, they k!llin’ me now
i miss her, i guess she missin’ me now
[post*chorus: surf]
missin’ my mama, i treat her like donda
beat up the block, i’ma treat it like ronda
kick the b*tch out of the crib like soccer
trigger too hairy, it feel like chewbacca
my b*tch exotic, i’m smokin’ exotic
my wrist too heavy, it’s flooded with diamonds
don’t call my phone, i put it on silent
when i get drunk, i feel like dyin’
[outro: surf]
when i get drunk, i feel like dyin’, when i get drunk, i feel like dyin’ (dying)
when i get drunk, i feel like dyin’, (dying)
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