RACECAR

Oh yeah, oh yeah She said I hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down to match my ceiling I don't have none (Have none), dollar billies (Have none) (One time, oh, West Side) She said I hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down to match my ceiling I don't have none, have none, dollar billies in my bag One, bag, one, f*ck your feelings, I detach them Wonder why I had them, with her bad lungs Running back to 'em, keep coming back if I hadn't known Aren't you tired of running? Never understand why, probably just a habit She run it 'til the cash come, wonder what happened Busy on the inside, why ain't got the answer Why ain't got hands, I don't got answer You and your friends, wherever the bands tucked, then She said I hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down to match my ceiling I don't have none, have none Dollar billies in my bag, one, bag, one F*ck your feelings I de- Pilot, I've gone high, parachute, this my first If we land in quicksand, tell him too, I might die Body-bagged, probably glad, had that price on my head Took her hand in July, couple months, fall again Hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down like my ceiling I don't have none, have none Yeah, yeah She said I hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down to match my ceiling I don't have none, have none, dollar billies in my bag One, bag, one, f*ck your feelings, I de- Oh, West Side Oh, West Side Oh, West Side