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This is a song about friends using you for money and not having anything themselves.
2 hooks 1 verse
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Hook:
You got your hand out wanting something from me
You must be too high
I slap your wrist so you got a five. that's the only thing coming
Hope you realize.
The only times you call is when you need dollars
If you call again there’s gonna be deep problems
So center yourself, you ain't getting my balance
Now you hating on me like i got no talent
Verse:
Spec yourself you gotta respect yourself
Cause no man will help
So put the fake friends with no goals
On the shelf
They in prison you with no ambition
Make you do what they wanna
They don't see commas if its not in they hand
they cant think longer
They want shit on demand
And when they can’t get it they complain about
Instead of doing shit about it
Its either Hands out or hands in pockets
Like where’s the profit
You ask yourself everyday but lets be honest
If French made from there who the fuck can stop you
Staring success in the face and think you got it
Thank god you in a stare still.
Cause i swoop in and grab it i will
Do anything for it Do anything morbid
Shoot off like a warhead no wonder he exploded
Cause he wanted this but couldn't afford it.
Hook:
You got your hand out wanting something from me
You must be too high
I slap your wrist so you got a five. that's the only thing coming
Hope you realize.
The only times you call is when you need dollars
If you call again there’s gonna be deep problems
So center yourself, you ain't getting my balance
Now you hating on me like i got no talent
© Simon Lindvall 2018
EN-US
DE-EU
