Fuchsia - Khary, KOTA The Friend, Haasan Barclay

Ah, ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah

I didn’t believe you, when you told me

That you loved me, thought we both lied

Now when I see you, fuchsia nose-bleeds

In the rubble, in the fault-lines

Didn’t believe you, when you told me (Me)

That you loved me (Me), thought we both lied

Now when I see you, fuchsia nose-bleeds

In the rubble, guess the fault’s mine (Didn't believe you)

Bolt lock on your brand-new house

Might knock, but it makes no sound

Lights on, so I came here looking for you

For you, oh, yeah

Bolt lock on your brand-new house

Might knock, but it makes no sound

Lights on, so I came here looking for you

For you, oh, yeah

Thought you were lying when you loved me

Things I took for granted in this awkward game of Rugby

Playing Chutes and Ladders, way too serious and ugly, when it should just be

kids game

Living in a constant state of disdain

We used plot on Brisbane, maybe go Paris, meet your parents

Too embarrassed to admit it was the real thing

I envy all friends who think they found the one for them

And love blindly just to die inside and do it all again

I re-followed you on Instagram, damn, you looking good, dyed your hair blonde

Much shorter than I remember, but it’s been a few Decembers since we broke up

And every girl sense has been equivalent to cold cuts

Self-sabotaging, 'bout to go nuts

Just in case you’re wondering, I’ve been on the road doing shows

Last night, was in your city and I almost hit your phone

I’m an idol to these kids, you would be proud of me in that sense

But you deserve to be here, wish I had sense

Ayy, love, I heard that you happy with some nigga, what’s his name?

Uh

I do not remember, shit just really ain’t the same, fuck

I thought that success would make me feel like I’m okay, but

The truth is, I’m a whole mess

Juice and vodka, oh yes, give your mama my best, stacking dollars, no flex

I’ve been hiding out west, out of town 'cause shit be painful at home

Memories on them roads, still find your hairs in my room

Got your perfume in my nose, on paper, I’m doing good

Hop out of bed, hop in the whip

Get to the bread, hop on a plane, give 'em the slip

You was with me on the low, yeah, catching the bus in the cold yeah

Smiling all over the phone, yeah, it wasn’t only for show, nah

It was real love, real love, yeah, real one, real one, yeah

4 train, 4 train, uh, young nigga fucked up now

Could’ve been a good thing, huh, kids, house and the whole nine

Prospect Park of a Saturday

I didn’t believe you, when you told me

That you loved me, thought we both lied

Now when I see you, fuchsia nose-bleeds

In the rubble, in the fault-lines

Didn’t believe you, when you told me (Me)

That you loved me (Me), thought we both lied

Now when I see you, fuchsia nose-bleeds

In the rubble, guess the fault’s mine (Didn't believe you)