Auto - Racetrack

What if I told you
That you do everything to say I told you
That you're a different person off the cocoa
That you don't really care, just want a photo
We got our photo
Tenth one in you yelling "yolo"
Do it for the gram and for the promo
It's got me feeling low low...
Man it feels like the eighth lap whippin' on the race track baby
And I just want to shrug it off
I feel like a train wreck tied up on these train tracks baby
And I just think I've had enough, I'm
Fucked up on your love
Fucked up on your love
Oh oh oh oh
She got her foot in the door she first in line
I'm trynna chill in my bubble she burstin mine
She said the balls in your court hope you don't get tired
She dribble circles 'round my heart when she cross my mind
Rob me shawty rob me
Drop me just like a hobby
Fold and toss me like origami
Think she forgot me might kamikaze
Man it feels like the eighth lap whippin' on the race track baby
And I just want to shrug it off
I feel like a train wreck tied up on these train tracks baby
And I just think I've had enough, I'm
Fucked up on your love
Fucked up on your love
Oh oh oh oh

Written by:
Neyvone Tillis

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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