ASSUMPTIONS

[Intro: Tate McRae]

I have this paralyzing fear that I'll maybe go nowhere

But God forbid me ever admitting I could be scared

And I can't stand my friends right now, we got nothing in common

But being lonely's worse than just having friends that don't care

You said it looks like I've been going through hell

How did you know? How could you tell?

Ask me to explain myself

Well

I'm trying my best here to be brutally honest

Nobody said changing would be this exhausting

A foot on the break 'cause it's been making me carsick

How could you blame me? Growing up is chaotic

[Verse: DC The Don]

I was goin' over speed, I'm on the freeway

Drivin' on the way to you, you said, "It's too late" (too late)

You said I'm too high to drive right now all them street lights goin' away

But I'm sick of the assumptions, you can just call if you need somethin', somethin'

And my problems called, they said they goin' away (Goin' away)

You know how this shit get when you workin' a lot and you need a break (Need a break)

And I spoke to your mom last night when the feelings start to fade

She so sick of the assumptions

After all of this, do it mean nothin'? Nothin'

Anyways, I'm comin' down to terms, I just fade away

'Cause I don't wanna break down and just feel a way

And she don't wanna break down and just feel a way

I seen you called to wake me up, but I been awake

You got me coughin' up my lungs when I ventilate

'Cause I get high as I can get when I just feel a way

And she don't like when I'm too high, it make her feel a way

Uhm, anyways, I'm runnin' to the riches

Whole lotta cash comin' through and I'm a spend it

Send another, “IMY” to my phone, I'on get it

I'on wanna text back, It's too hard to admit it

I been in the road for days, and the stress came with it

She don't even wanna talk when the fame brought in it

I knew, shawty, she could tell that the life came with it

'Cause I been in the motels with the same braud in it

Oh-oh-oh (Ooh)

(Mmm) mm-woah, ooh-woah

Huh, oh, woah, oh

I admit, I got insecurities I'm flyin' with

Sometimes I think I'm not enough, but, still, I'm dyin' lit

I got some business and some problems that I'm dealin' with, but who don't?

That's why I'm tryna stack this shit, for real, until my roof gone

She like, "Who them bitches on yo' phone?" And I'm like, "Who phone?"

She knockin' on my door twenty-four-seven, she like, "Who home?"

Straight to the mansion, to the penthouse from the group home

That's why I got that Presi' Rolex, and made it two tone