Tekst piosenki:
(Taylor bout to fucking flex)
I don't really wanna go to fucking parties
Nize your feelings I ain't looking for a shawty
Drop a cheque make it back by the morning
Waste my time why does everything feel fucking
Boring
This shit fucking boring
Boring
Shit is boring
Boring
It's hella boring
Shit is boring
It's fucking boring
Red Supreme Louis V on my bag
All you fall behind bitch you jet lagged
Boy don't you feel gassed you not in my lane
Lane, lane, lane
Blowin' lots of weed smoke through the window pane
Been a busy year so of course I fucking changed
I got headphones on my ears bout three quarters of the day
Day, day, day
You stay hella wack
You fucking lame, lame
Ion ever touch that crack cocaine yeah
But I'll take a fucking tree right to the face, face
I don't really wanna go to fucking parties
Nize your feelings I ain't looking for a shawty
Drop a cheque make it back by the morning
Waste my time why does everything feel fucking
Boring
This shit fucking boring
Boring
Shit is boring
Boring
It's hella boring
Shit is boring
It's fucking boring
And you heard it here first
I'ma stick around and make this shit for what it's worth
The money come in bags
Potent come in bags
You'd think I'm livin' life but I could swear this shit a curse
Shoulder bag
Shoulder strap
Gucci tag
Body bad
She drop it down
And throw it back
Pour it up
El Dorado rum in a soda cup
I'ma try and play the game until my time is up
I don't really wanna go to fucking parties
Nize your feelings I ain't looking for a shawty
Drop a cheque make it back by the morning
Waste my time why does everything feel fucking
Boring
This shit fucking boring
Boring
Shit is boring
Boring
It's hella boring
Shit is boring
It's fucking boring
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