Pyrophoria - I Made This Song in Three Hours

Depressed depressed she's depressed
I'm not blessed
I get no rest
Are you not impressed
Fucker of the arts triple charts
With no head starts
Only thing my head got is smarts
If you only had a brain I'm breaking all these hearts
Ima go straight into their carts
All these wherefore arts
Ain't where it's why and why, no lie, is your end is nigh
Your'e musty and your music dry
Im knuckle dusty and not afraid to die
I'm crazy, you're lazy
Lay-dies are pimps too ask Jay Z

Go tell your ghostwriter this is how you do this shit
I made this song in 3 hours, go on and quit

My therapist got me fucked up
I get out of bed, isn't that enough
Oh she's manic oh it's rough
I made two songs today, that's not a bluff
No bitch, no time for other stuff
I sit the the dark and hope I cause a spark
Hit a mark
Fuck I'm ready to drown a shark
This is a walk in the park
Pick a genre or a landmark
UK and NZ say on your mark
Radio says hark
Behold label-less, unstableness, but ableness
To show you how it's done
Shit was made in a basement hun
All by me for fun
I write poems around your ass like English 101
You have a dry spell I have no dry run
Bills lellish is no one
The US many a shit for brain so I don't care if they shun
They don't like how I'm NOT spun
Don't get my lyrics
Have you heard of a pun
Yeah, zero fans can be outdone
But how many of their songs are actually well done son
And who wrote those for them, chum
Call that the ghost writer no brighter
Than the foo fighter who grew whiter
And didn't have to fire
Kurt cobain
He did that and not with a flame
and what I'm trying to say all the same
Is music died and you're to blame
Did you get the pun; I put it plain
probably not herr shit for brain

Go tell your ghostwriter this is how you do this shit
I made this song in 3 hours, go on and quit

So I'm depressed well no not quite
I didn't see daylight but I got my pedialyte and my cats are alright
9-5 more like through the night
All I know is write
The doctors all afright
They're not at my height
Radio called me a genius, is my future bright
This life's a China shop to my bullfight
Girl outta nowhere
I don't care
If they don't spare
A like now, or dare
To hear me and even go there
Sorry Claire
Why don't you blare
Adele and maybe she'll care
To release a single song
Before too long
Like years, am I wrong
Her shits gonna sit atop the chart all year long
I'm a bitch not meant to belong
But I'm coming on strong
And my music is unalike
I didn't learn to ride a bike
But I never even rode a trike
When I was a tyke
I did whatever and without a Klondike
I'm different what's your counterstrike
Same shit, different day?
You really find that ok?
How to save a life like the Fray
Your music is 50 shades of grey
My dominatrix friends and I say
You don't know what you're missing mkay

Written by:
Jessica Hambrick

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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