[Hook]
You can see it in my eyes that I've never been a quitter
I hope that when I die, I'll have been a bigger hitter
I've been lining up white all night, sniff quicker
But it ain't going right, so believe that I'm bitter
I'm bitter, I'm bitter
And I'm bitter, I'm bitter
And I'm bitter, I'm bitter
I'm bitter, I'm bitter
[Verse 1]
And I'm lost mate, can't face the facts
So taken aback, questioning "what do I lack?"
Cause I thought I would've been doing
So much better by the age I'm at
Lost years? Can't take em back
The fuck you making of that?
And my mate, yeah, he got sacked
Belled me up, he's reeling
Didn't think that at 28
He'd be back dealing in Ealing
Hatchback and acting boss
You get too accumulated
He's blue like when a uni grade comes in
Attitude too, what can you do?
Hurry up, stop rushing me
I got distracted by credit cards with rocks crushed beneath
Who believes in this, yeah, when I don't trust in me
My mate just booked a one-way ticket from Norwich over to Tuscany
And it's dark when a lyricist knows 99% of the listenership
Doesn't give a shit about the words you've written
It's proper dark isn't it? Isn't it?
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Want beamer all on my car keys
Wondering "have I kicked too soon?"
No mate, no, it can't be
Sniff coke, panicking
Yep, skipping a heartbeat
Burn a candle from both ends
And then I get wax on Primark jeans
Shocked or you can't speak
Can't afford a shwama [?]
If you live at home, don't start
Chirping off about your money drama
Maybe I'm a two or three-listen rapper
In a proliferation age, wonder "does it matter?"
Got chips in paper, sausage and batter
Yeah and some Fosters
.WAV, 16bit lossless
Speak up, try the Costas
Tracks not for imposters
Go check Coda's roster
Got beans on a [?]
Have I lost ya?
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Thousands out, getting blown yeah in china whites
Where I live, people are overdosing on china white
Forgive the nature of my diction at this time of night
But if I didn't speak up, there'd be nobody to shine a light
On how we live, 10 Mayfair smooths, yeah, and a Red Bull
Having dregs poured that we can't stand and we wake up feeling dreadful
Yeah, of cash you know I'm boringly berefed
Wish that I could smell some ribeye and red wine upon my breath
Yes, yes, stare at the ceiling in pain
Tryna be a top pick? You're in the media, mate
Honestly, you know, I'm feeling afraid that at this rate
That I'll leave a non-existent Wikipedia page
Does it matter? No five-star dishes, no exotic fishes
No double cheap kisses, only loads of near misses
Need a blue geezer, yeah, to give me wishes
My self-esteem is non-existent, poaching off my Mrs
[Hook]
