backup (Explicit)
Guardin"backup (Explicit)" là bài hát của Guardin, 2020, Pop. Thời lượng 2:41, 42 lines / 265 words.
Lời bài hát
0:14Got some money in my pocket
0:16But that doesn't make a difference at all at all at all
0:21This isn't fame I'm f**king lame
0:23I'm just boy whose tryna figure it out it out it out
0:29Well maybe this is f**king it
0:31The audience has turned against
0:33They wanna justify the creepin' and leak my mom's home address
0:37The paranoia rises best when your words sit inside my chest
0:40I'm f**king human don't forget that when you're making your requests
0:44I've got my hands up
0:47You've got your hands on your gun
0:52Calling for backup
0:54I'm not the only one
0:59I've got a question
1:01Does torturing me sound fun
1:07Yeah you take out your stress
1:08By punching holes out of everyone
1:29Got some whiskey in my cup
1:31But I don't think that it's enough
1:33At all at all at all
1:36This isn't me I tell myself
1:38I constantly worry about my health whoa oh oh
1:44Well maybe I should f**king try
1:46'Cause death is creepin' right behind
1:48I see him sitting in the corner lookin' oh so f**king sly
1:52Anxiety is on the rise when he's constantly on my mind
1:55I fear the day is finally coming
1:57Where I meet my own demise
2:00I've got my hands up
2:01You've got your hands on your gun
2:06Oh oh
2:07Calling for backup
2:09I'm not the only one
2:14I've got a question
2:16Does torturing me sound fun
2:19Oh oh oh oh
2:21Yeah you take out your stress
2:23By punching holes out of everyone
2:27Oh oh oh oh
2:28Oh oh oh oh
2:33Oh oh oh oh oh oh
2:41Ohoh
Got some money in my pocket But that doesn't make a difference at all at all at all This isn't fame I'm f**king lame I'm just boy whose tryna figure it out it out it out Well maybe this is f**king it The audience has turned against They wanna justify the creepin' and leak my mom's home address The paranoia rises best when your words sit inside my chest I'm f**king human don't forget that when you're making your requests I've got my hands up You've got your hands on your gun Calling for backup I'm not the only one I've got a question Does torturing me sound fun Yeah you take out your stress By punching holes out of everyone Got some whiskey in my cup But I don't think that it's enough At all at all at all This isn't me I tell myself I constantly worry about my health whoa oh oh Well maybe I should f**king try 'Cause death is creepin' right behind I see him sitting in the corner lookin' oh so f**king sly Anxiety is on the rise when he's constantly on my mind I fear the day is finally coming Where I meet my own demise I've got my hands up You've got your hands on your gun Oh oh Calling for backup I'm not the only one I've got a question Does torturing me sound fun Oh oh oh oh Yeah you take out your stress By punching holes out of everyone Oh oh oh oh Oh oh oh oh Oh oh oh oh oh oh Ohoh
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