|
How many times do I have to say
|
To get away- get gone
|
Flip your shit past another lasses
|
Humble dwelling
|
You got your game, made your shot, and you got away
|
With a lot, but I'm not turned on
|
So put away that meat you're selling
|
Cuz I do know what's good for me-
|
And I've done what I could for you
|
But you're not benefiting, and yet I'm sitting
|
Singing again, sing, sing again
|
How can I deal with this, if he won't get with this
|
M'I gonna heal from this; he won't admit to it
|
Nothing to figure out; I gotta get him out
|
It's time the truth was out that he don't give a
|
Shit about me
|
How many times can it escalate
|
Till it elevates to a place I can't breathe?
|
And I must decide, if you must deride
|
That I'm much obliged to up and go
|
I'll idealize that it's no
|
Sacrafice, because the price is paid, and
|
There's nothing left to grieve
|
Fuckin go-
|
Cuz I've done what I could for you, and I do know what's
|
Good for me and I'm benefiting, instead
|
I'm sitting singing again, singing again, singing again,
|
Sing, sing, sing again
|
How can I deal with this, if he won't get with this
|
M'I gonna heal from this; he won't admit to it
|
Nothing to figure out; I gotta get him out
|
It's time the truth was out tat he don't give a
|
Shit about me
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Get Gone
|
| Apple, Fiona |
