Lyrics:
fires with old magazines
Watch the world turn from outer, outer space
Thought we'd make it to 85
But look at us we're on cloud nine
Should've quarantined
I feel closer to the light
Now I'm going to try
To improve my life
I don't want no lies
I don't watch TV
I don't waste my time
Won't read a magazine
But why should I care
What the world thinks of me
Won't let a stranger
Give me a social disease
I don't want no lies
I don't watch TV
I don't waste my
want no lies
I don't watch TV
I don't waste my time
Won't read a magazine
I don't want no lies
I don't watch TV
I don't waste my time
Won't read
disease
I don't want no lies
I don't watch TV
I don't waste my time
Won't read a magazine
I don't want no lies
I don't watch TV
I don't waste my
from a magazine
Favorite magazine
A pic from a magazine
So clean
So mean
A picture from a magazine
My favorite magazine
A pic from a magazine
Kool girl
my bitch be so damn crazy, she might dump the magazine
I go codeine crazy, I'm with my lady and we whip the Mercedes
I sip this purple till the world
now)
Getting into my car,
or we'll let him wait
(I'm ready baby,
I'm ready baby,
I'm right here for you)
Watch me, follow the red light
Join me
One, two,
you on the magazine
(Magazine! Polish Magazine!)
You are the face behind a million silhouettes
In every major city around the world
People are dying
calendar watch
And you can't keep track until your heart attack
Hey, I'm living in a magazine, page to page in my submarine
Hey now, Cindy, you can't
might not be the one you see in a magazine
She might not be the one you fantasize in your dream
She’s the only girl left in the world that can guarantee
Every day you've go to wake up
And disappear behind your makeup
Take away your calendar watch
And you can't keep track until your heart attack
watches
I just sit back and just watch and just get nauseous
And walk around with an empty bottle of Remy Martin
Startin' shit like some twenty-six
Go
Hahah
Yeah, TV shows, magazines, real people they say
Don't believe what I hear. Don't fear. I'm out of here!
TV shows, magazines, real people
swept
She took the country from the world
And now, look: she's teacher's pet
She's a magazine
She's a magazine (And now, look: she's teacher's pet)
I, uh, I hold them chandaliers in the trap boy
Uh, Double M, Trae what up
Me against the world, got it from the bottom
Now I'm on my own shit,
favorite magazine
Hol up chase that dream
Do it for yourself or do it for the team
Put it on the shelf or in magazine
Open your mind... so the world can
That Forbs music forbs music
If you make the magazine
That mean you getting to it
I got my magazine full, and I might shoot ya
Have your whole family
Big steppa
Big steppa just stepped in the room
Watch out, watch out, big steppa just stepped in the room
We got clips and magazines, come get
c clean sword ain't stronger than a dirty pen
I see the writing on the wall about the world events
You don't want to watch a world cause it hurts
Working till my legs go numb
And I break through the scene
Keep my fist up watch ‘em run
When I load up my magazine i got pistols
I got missiles
So
icon, chain smoker
The watch face cold, like it was playin' poker
Pot grower, party not-goer
Always not sober, shades on my face when the world's
on the billboard
Yeah people lie, numbers won't
Keep me high, drugs is close
Roll one up, pour a cup
Watch the world go up in smoke
I like my music real loud
Watch where you going bitch
Watch where you going
Watch where you going bitch
Watch where you going
Watch where you going bitch
Watch where you going
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