Wasted In Paris - Lil Xtra

Yeah, oh

Yo, I’m sick of this life

The way I never do anything right

The way that everything I love is just a waste of my time

Like I’m cursed to earn everything I’ve ever deserved

I see the way that you’re hangin' on my every word

Word

That’s pretty cool, I guess

Not one to protest

Money in my pocket or the jealously of old friends

Oh man, setbacks piled onto jet lag

I’m too fuckin' tired to be waiting on this checked bag

I’m sad as fuck, I want to go home

Turn the motherfuckin' lights out and get stoned

I just want to be alone with my thoughts

Oh my God, no I don’t

Break away this facade

Said I would, but I won’t

Goddamit, I’m panickin' I can’t stand it

I can’t breathe, can’t leave, can’t handle it, yeah

And when I die, leave a candle lit

'Til then you’ll find me wherever the fucking camera is

I said I’d come through, but you know I’m not

Gotta lot to do, now this music’s all I got

Her friend can come too, treat me like the Marriott

Blindfold the thot up in my room, that’s a bird box

That’s absurd talk

Bringin' up the obstacles

Too short-sighted

To be seein' through my optical

Smooth sailin' like it’s nautical

I took the audible

The money on the way now

Happiness is optional

And like the prodigal

I’m coming back

No I won’t listen to your homie

Man, your homie’s wack

I need a kickback and a lime ‘rona, stat

Show up in designer asking «where the marijuana at?»

Full send, feeling regal, time to sin again

Post legal, coke evil, but we winnin' shit

It’s Charlie Sheen up in this bitch with a clean dick

Got it tested, she impressed so we get it in

And I can hear her heart sing with every single scream

Went and fell in love the first time that she fucked with me

I just wish you would’ve stuck with me

But I guess I get it I don’t even motherfuckin' fuck with me

I’m smoking weed in abundancy until I’m stuck

Tell me that you miss me but only when you’re fucked up

The bad luck came and hit me like a Mac truck

Nothing like the fall from number one to the runner up

I’m tryna live life, tryna make some memories

Far too focused to be focusin' on mini-me's

Yeah, fuck a fake friend, that’s an enemy

I made a couple songs and now I’m fucking up the industry

How I got here’s a mystery to most of you

A microphone and hard work

Yeah look what I’ma do

I feel the jealously is welling up inside of you

But honestly, that’s the best part for me, I’m coming through

Y’all boring, I’m snoring, man where the party at?

Normally I isolate, tonight I’m saying fuck that

We drown in alcohol and no one brought the life raft

Holiday in Paris, fuck depression, time to fight back