More songs by Monster Florence
Description
Producer: Tom Donovan
Composer: Tom Donovan
Composer: Andre Mclean
Composer: Quinton Mitton
Composer: Alex Osiris
Composer: Cameron Morrell
Composer: Jonny Poole
Lyricist: Tom Donovan
Lyricist: Andre Mclean
Lyricist: Quinton Mitton
Lyricist: Alex Osiris
Lyricist: Cameron Morrell
Lyricist: Jonny Poole
Lyrics and translation
Original
You scrape by the skin of your teeth for you never even make it and blame it on me.
And I can't get this taste out my mouth, you linger like I'm too scared, you're too scared.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you are.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you -are. -All you got is your issues, father.
Blowing holes inside tissues, father. Couple that with my patience, uh-uh.
Find my trigger like pistols, one up.
Skin side up, you might quick fry love and my insides drop like peacock blue, color.
Red I see when no bread I eat, got low energy and they left you, better. What am I gonna do with that?
You be bad, mind grab mine, toothbrush shine when I'm one off. Never met a lover like you before.
You know it sounds butters when you chew and talk.
Truth hard to swallow, that's food for thought. Two halves of whole, you should use some more, core.
Right on my high horse, bygones be bygones, you could talk.
You scrape by the skin of your teeth for you never even make it and blame it on me.
And I can't get this taste out my mouth, you linger like I'm too scared, you're too scared.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you are.
You know who you are, -you are, you are, you are.
-Yeah, yeah, you think the world owes you something on your skin, huh? And the hits you want do more hinder.
Looking for hopeless love, scrolling the internet with a VPN to hide the breadcrumbs. Well, you won't find us on Alta Vista, unlimber like an ex-sprinter.
Posting ads like Chisel Mail, looking for fitness girls when you're a plump forty-one-year-old shit cunt. Built like a bed bunk, barely headstrong.
Whipping 'round the ends like, "Where'd I get one?
" With every single thing you question, you get stung. But every burn teach you a lesson, you had fun.
You scrape by the skin of your teeth for you never even make it and blame it on me. And I can't get this taste out my mouth, you linger like
I'm too scared, you're too scared.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you are.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you are.
You scrape by the skin of your teeth for you never even make it and blame it on me.
And I can't get this taste out my mouth, you linger like I'm too scared, you're too scared.
English translation
You scrape by the skin of your teeth for you never even make it and blame it on me.
And I can't get this taste out my mouth, you linger like I'm too scared, you're too scared.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you are.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you -are. -All you got is your issues, father.
Blowing holes inside tissues, father. Couple that with my patience, uh-uh.
Find my trigger like pistols, one up.
Skin side up, you might quick fry love and my insides drop like peacock blue, color.
Red I see when no bread I eat, got low energy and they left you, better. What am I gonna do with that?
You be bad, mind grab mine, toothbrush shine when I'm one off. Never met a lover like you before.
You know it sounds butters when you chew and talk.
Truth hard to swallow, that's food for thought. Two halves of whole, you should use some more, core.
Right on my high horse, bygones be bygones, you could talk.
You scrape by the skin of your teeth for you never even make it and blame it on me.
And I can't get this taste out my mouth, you linger like I'm too scared, you're too scared.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you are.
You know who you are, -you are, you are, you are.
-Yeah, yeah, you think the world owes you something on your skin, huh? And the hits you want do more hinder.
Looking for hopeless love, scrolling the internet with a VPN to hide the breadcrumbs. Well, you won't find us on Alta Vista, unlimber like an ex-sprinter.
Posting ads like Chisel Mail, looking for fitness girls when you're a plump forty-one-year-old shit cunt. Built like a bed bunk, barely headstrong.
Whipping 'round the ends like, "Where'd I get one?
" With every single thing you question, you get stung. But every burn teach you a lesson, you had fun.
You scrape by the skin of your teeth for you never even make it and blame it on me. And I can't get this taste out my mouth, you linger like
I'm too scared, you're too scared.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you are.
You know who you are, you are, you are, you are.
You scrape by the skin of your teeth for you never even make it and blame it on me.
And I can't get this taste out my mouth, you linger like I'm too scared, you're too scared.