~We Killed our Ex
I get the sense that it's a lost cause I get the sense that you might really love her The text gon' be evidence, this text is evidence I tried to ration with you, no murders or crimes of passion, but damn You was out of reach You was at the farmer's market with your perfect peach Now I'm in the basement, planning home invasion Now you laying face-down, got me singing over a beat I'm so mature, I'm so mature I'm so mature, I got me a therapist to tell me there's other men I don't want none, I just want you If I can't have you, no one will Mood