Seaberg - Currency

I wear boys slacks
With a lit match
With a women's wit
Give a heart attack
With them boom baps
And that slow slap
I be lickin on her like a Kitty Cat

Attitude like a slick snake
Nigga still call me an ingrate
And I'm an ingrate for you sure
But be one that you still adored
Or fetished
Dark skin
With some teeth
That's a menace
And the darkness in my mind
With a mortal combat finish
Fatality
When I'm still fucking dead to me
And when the world turns it's back
What happened to loving your inner me (enemy)?

Gone, gone, gone
You gone, gone, gone
You gone, gone, gone, gone

Gone, gone, gone
You gone, gone, gone
You gone, gone, gone, gone

Written by:
Carlos Kelley, Taylor Seaberg

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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