Ex-girlfriends on my mind - they really fucked me up,
doing shots of whiskey till my friends tell me 'that's enough,’
then do a couple more before I stumble to the door cause
I ain’t trying to be childish - I'm spitting the wildest
fantasies in tandem, G - I'm on autopilot
on Hennessy and enemies; drunken, so I dial in to
empty the epitome of hell into my live stream
that mentally got mental ink spilling out my stylist,
they handed me an answer, “we can't repair your life
or make it right, but it ain't no reason for you to be in the club, wildin,”
rolling like a pair of dice, reaching for a smile, then
show a bitch to paradise, leave her on the island...
an evil entity has entered me, compiling
my energy to centerpiece, adding on the mileage
to my flesh and bone, eating flesh until my flesh is gone;
I'm mentally deranged, are you bitches catching on?

(Chorus)
[Pour it up, pour it out, turn it up, turn it out,
show up, then we show out, show up then we show out] (x2)
(The Weeknd sample for 4 bars)

Feeling an X-Man mutant with some x, man
turned up in the club, looking for the one that’s next, man
fuck my fucking ex, man - AND her fucking next man,
whoever she can manage envelop in her next scam,
I gave her the axe, man, like a firefighter on
a killing spree - supplier of the villainy and fire bombs
I’m writing, y’all - entire arms coated with that type of bond
to make the bitches flock to me - damn near gotta fight them off
excite them all, still, I am the meanest of genius
so when I say “fuck you, bitch,” I really mean it,
you think that I need you, that you gonna have me fiending,
until you see me with an even badder bitch, beaming,
I’m all about that EDM - so you know she dip low (Diplo)
a nympho, I’m Olmec, all in her hidden temple,
I wanted to make you mine, show you to my kinfolk,
but you’re so fucking complicated, I’ll just keep it simple:

(Chorus)

Drunk on blue and white like I got team spirit,
vodka on my breath, smelling like teen spirits
intoxicated feeling, I guess it would appear this
is near-death inebriation - I’ll be a realist,
I was born an idealist, but when I look in the mirror,
I’m feeling as if nothing behind’s the mask, Darth Nihilus,
hoping to rebuild this (rebuild this), all I want to fill this
hole in my heart…truth be told, I don’t know where to start...
I tend to let my anger get the best of me -
a recipe for leprosy of a spirit on ecstasy,
especially, since it was destiny to be presently
arguing with her testily, ceasing sayings of pleasantries,
secondly, my jealousy can’t be seen as a felony...
cause my bae stays wet like Chesapeake
with a mind so heavenly, I’d never get her next to me,
in my mind’s eye, I wasn’t fitting the pedigree
dreadfully lacking equity - a peasant, see…
cause I was raised on the street and buns, both no sesame,
I may be fine medically, but I’m feeling dead mentally,
lost in the revelry, I’m in need of some empathy,
I want her to be into me the way that I be into her,
want her to be feeling me whenever I be feeling her,
I thought this what I wanted…to be alone,
but I all I want now is for me and her to be at home.

[Pour it up, pour it out, turn it up, turn it out,
show up, then we show out, show up then we show out] (x2)