You know that I could crush you with my voice Whoa, I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself Stood on my roof and tried to see you Forgetting about me Hide the details I don't want to know a thing Wish that I was as invisible as you make me feel

Whoa whoa whoa People gonna say what they say But we don’t care about that anyway Haters gonna hate Don’t you ever change Only thing that matters That you need to know You’ll only find it in your heart and soul We don’t care what they say

Tell her about it You got to tell her about it Tell her everything you feel Tell her all your crazy dreams Let her know you need her Let her know how much she means I don't want to see you let a good thing

You don't know a thing about me 'Cause baby you don't know a thing about me You ain't got the right to tell me Acting like you own me lately Mister Know It All Well you, you think you know it all Oh you think that you know me, know me That's why I'm

In time you'll learn this is about you Babies from 80s don't know no better Don't nothing go better with ignorance But the belligerent kids that we living with Some of them masculine, some of them feminine 'Member the universe used to be innocent Now

I don't know about you but I'm feeling 22 It feels like one of those nights It feels like one of those nights uh uh It's miserable and magical oh yeah You don't know about me, but I bet you want to It seems like one of those nights Everything will be

You’ve got the wrong song This one’s about a liar and a cheater Don’t know what kind of spell you think I’m under This ain't a "feel-good, everything's fine" sing-along Who didn’t know what he had 'till it was gone You’ve got the wrong girl 'cause I got

Murder, murder I don't see nothing, I hear you talking about it Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it I don't see nothing, I hear you talking about

I know it's a shame Tell me it's okay Lately I've been thinking about the past How there is no holding back No point in wasting sorrow On things that won't be here tomorrow But you and I well, we don't need to speak It's the secret that we keep

I don't know what you heard about me But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P Now shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that