Sir Sly - sick sick [sic]

All bets are off
Ceramic cuts through the pain, ya
You said, "Don't be a stranger"
"Don't be alarmed"
If you never see me after I return your coffee cup
And I start my backing up (start my backing up)

Well all bets are off
I fucked it up, I know I did
But did I honestly think you'd be the mother of my kids
Deep down my name still means loss
Come around at sundown and you could hit the jackpot
But all bets are off

Clinging on, fingertips
Stinging on, still hurting from the grip
Bring it on, fingertips
Leaning on you, I've been codependent
Sick little pieces in a puzzle that's the right fit
I printed "wrong" on a mask in all cap sick, sick (sic)
(sick, sick, sic)
(sick, sick, sic)
(In a sick sick fit)

Do my knees hurt from beggin'?
I'm like Dior or Osiris like laundry still hanging (bloody, bloody)
Well darlin' you could pose fine
Put the camera down and find me on the clothesline (bloody, bloody, bloody money)
Drink me up and spit me out like I was old wine
Not sayin', "No, why?" Is this coming from your own mind?
Paid the cost, but no fine
Did you catch a glimpse of me? I think not

All bets are off
All bets are off
All bets are off
All bets are off
All bets are off
All bets are off
And you say that you need to grow up
I hope you're better off
All bets are off

Written by:
Hayden John Coplen, Jason Alexander Suwito, Landon Jacob Maslyn

Publisher:
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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