God only knows What Brian Wilson meant Pick out your clothes With some real intent You don't seem to care That I've been waiting here Pulling out my hair For you to come

Don't try to tell me it ain't what it is There's a cold feelin' Runnin' up and down my spine It seems to say we're just wastin' time It's like a bad movie One I wish I'd never seen The plot gets old Do you know what I mean?

That's all right. What you call me? You didn't! You don't wear continental clothes, or Stetson hats. Well I tell you one dog-gone thing. It makes me feel good to know one thing. I know I'm a lover. Matter of opinion. That's all right, Mama was. Papa too.

I know, I know I’m rootin' for my baby In a minute it’ll be over and gone Gone gone gone gone That you go through a lot See I know, I know ‘Cause you still know what you got

Don't fall on my faith, oh Don't fall on my fate It's too loud Don't fall on my face Can't hear it coming down the hallway stairs from the parking lot Freeze my crown all up in it You know, everybody's been tellin' me what they think about me for the

White crime Yeah, we ‘bout that Do a lot of dirt, never doubt that Lot of rap twerps, love to shout crap Love to make their mouth flat When it come to burd, no, we spout facts You 'gon learn what i’m 'bout, breh Lot of rappers talking that shit, not

Don't talk to me, nuh-uh (Nuh-uh) Don't stare at me, nuh-uh (Ooh) Yeah, I done glowed up (Chyeah) Then I fucked your bitch, uh-huh (Uh-huh) What's your name? Lil Pump (Brrt) Told that bitch shut up (Chyeah) I drink a lotta lean (Ooh), pop a lotta pills

All or nothing If you go all in, you got a lot to lose, my friend If you say "all in", you don't get to choose again You know what you're doing, but the clock is ticking Give it your best and then you're onto something And keeps on getting closer, closer

You should be alone Yeah, you should be alone You should be alone with me We could be alone Yeah, we could be alone But never get too low on me Oh oh oh oh oh, Oh oh oh oh oh oh So what if I don't have a lot to talk about?

What you call me? (tramp!) No you didn't! (you don't wear continental clothes, or Stetson hats) Well, I tell you one doggone thing It makes me feel good to know one thing, I know I am a lover (Matter of opinion) that's all right, mama was, papa too And