You're putting me on We're going to try it, you ever try it? I'm turning you on You're putting me on! Where did you get that stuff? Oh, Nikki's growing a patch out in the backyard Come on, you're putting me on Yeah, he's putting you on, he's a brat

I'll make my own mistakes Even though I never learn I'm running from myself If only you could see behind my eyes Gather round my friends I need a match and only one match I think it's time I make my own way I'm turning my back on this city and I'm not

Nigga, my gun go off - you see the barrel turning You feel the hollows burning, nigga, now you're learning Nigga, my gun go off - call it attempted murder Nigga, I'm trying to murk you when I come back busting Nigga, my gun go off - don't try to say I'm

Depression and obsession don't mix well Hollywood motels Hell, I think I'm just obsessed with you I'm poisoned and my body don't feel well I hate her, it's hard to love how I feel my stomach turning Make out hill, where we met We let our lips do all the

I can't give you, what you think you gave me It's time to say goodbye to turning tables I can't keep up with your turning tables Under your thumb, I can't breathe To turning tables I won't ask you, you to just desert me Next time I'll be braver I'll be

I don't know my name I've turned against my home I don't know who to blame I'm turning into stone, turning to stone Leave me bleeding, leave me dying on my own Leave me wanting, climb your way into my soul I don't like it, I can't live without a trace I

'Cause you've been running circles 'round My mind, turning me inside out And I fell for you but hit the ground 'Cause the only love I've known has let me Down and I need lifting up Now you ain't here I'm sleeping rough And I'm praying I can pray enough

I think I'm still turning out You say I turned out fine I'm a little kid, and so are you Don't you go and grow up before I do I'm a little kid with so much doubt Do you want to be there to see how I turn out? But I'm confused Am I ready for love? Or

Sweet home Alabama Where the skies are so blue Lord, I'm coming home to you Alabama, ah ah ah Big wheels keep on turning Carry me home to see my kin Singing songs about the Southland

I know it's true Blame it on my misplaced heart But what's the use I been losing time And it's a precious thing I don't watch my back much lately It's funny how I see, everything Twisted and turning in the breeze You made your mind up