Why you always all on my back?
Why you gotta do me like that?
Why you gotta act like a bitch when I'm with you?
Baby girl I'm blueBecause you treat me like shit
I paid for the bed and never even slept in it
I paid for that crib and never stepped foot in
And now somebody else is eating all the pudding
Things change, now my dashboard wooden
All black Benz, like a young Doc Gooden
Dark shades, cause I'm stone crazy
Girl, we grown, stop playing on my phone, baby
All your childish attempts to make me angry fall short
Which only fuels the rage you have, because you have nothing
Understandable, I'm shining brilliant with five Brazilians
There were times I used to hide my feelings
Now I'm butt naked in the Lamborghini
And motherfuckers can't see me
Wait 'til this chick see me on TV, I make the shit look easy
Who would've thought I hit you right back?Why you always all on my back?
Why you gotta do me like that?
Why you gotta act like a bitch when I'm with you?
Baby girl I'm blueSo many women wanna call me baby
And you wonder why the fuck that I ain't call you lately
Some would say that I'm the symbol for sex and uh
Others would hate, but I don't give 'em no breath
Go on a date, I'm at the crib with the chef and uh, that's me
And you could order whatever
The specialty is white snake and underwear sauce
You could probably catch me somewhere where the sun is next
And I understand that's only cause I'm popular
I'm getting topped off in the front row of the opera
As Bocelli sings the celly rings
I gotta go, you'll never know how good it feels to lay in bed with king
I'm not exactly flawless, but I'm gorgeous, just like a horse is
I know the thought of me succeeding makes a lot of people nauseous
Still I'm on the back of the boat taking pictures with the swordfishWhy you always all on my back?
Why you gotta do me like that?
Why you gotta act like a bitch when I'm with you?
Baby girl I'm blueI hope you get a paper cut on your tongue
From a razor in a paper cup
I hope every soda you drink already shaken up
I hope your dreams dry like raisins in the baking sun
I hope your titties all saggy in your early 20's
I hope there's always snow in your driveway
I hope you never get off Fridays
And you work at a Friday's that's always busy on Fridays
I hope you win the lottery and lose your ticket
I hope it's Ben and Socrates poop all up in your kitchen
I hope the zipper on your jacket get stuck
And your headphones short, and your charger don't work
And you spill shit on your shirt
I hope your tears don't hurt, and I can smile in your face
Cut my losses, how Delilah changed my locks to a fade
I hope you happy, I hope you happy
I hope you ruined this shit for a reason, I hope you happy, ighWhy you always all on my back?
Why you gotta do me like that?
Why you gotta act like a bitch when I'm with you?
Baby girl I'm blueLa la la la
Songwriters
ARIYAN ARSLANI, CHANCELOR JOHNATHAN BENNETT, MARK RONSON, ZANE LOWEPublished by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, NON SKIP MUZIK, IMAGEM MUSIC INC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.