No Saint

Oh they twist my words in quotations

Like I need any more motivation

I had no class, no money, no lady

Ex-pizza boy now I'm throwin' dough crazy

Crazy, no words can explain

The lack of ****s I give

These rappers need to suck my ****

As dry as the Sahara is

I got bars like Xanax, dealers

All my friends are pharmacists

Caterpillars in my hypothalamus they burrowing

You talk but, don't listen

I'm going through, some weird ****t

You move to, the rhythm

Of the city, that we live in

Woah

I told you I ain't no saint

But you wouldn't listen though

You wouldn't hear me no

You must be out your coconut

Going through my phone and stuff

Young, drunk Australian

I'm going Russell Crowe on ya

You say I'm a chauvinist

I say

Well, whose show is this

You know where the door is at

Or do I need to show you it

I became a monster somewhere

I'm retracing my steps

Studio, back home, her bedroom, studio

Well I'm just changing I guess

Cops used to stop me and say

I need your name and address

I would say 'Usain Bolt'

Then I gave it the legs

I don't get no happiness from their failures

I really wish them the best in this game yeah

I got all my own stress and these payslips

I don't get any rest

I'm awake all the time

In my room pacing like Indiana

I need Rihanna

Or somebody really similar

I've been off the drugs a while

I'm thinking clearer

I think I'm worse when I'm sober baby

Text my dealer

I told you I ain't no saint

But you wouldn't listen though

You wouldn't hear me no

Now I'm dead end, dead end

I told you I ain't no saint

But you wouldn't listen though

You wouldn't hear me no

The city gets us all down sometimes

But if you're having fun

Yeah

You're having fun

If you're having fun

You're not wasting time

You're not crazy, get crazy

It's a crazy life

You're like my lady

But you're not ladylike

Smoking haze until we get McGrady eye

Yeah we overtaking, Talladega Nights

Swerving through lanes on the way to mine

I don't give a **** what you talking bout

Angel of death in a boarded up town

You talk but, don't listen

I'm going through, some weird ****t

You move to, the rhythm

Of the city, that we live in

I told you I ain't no saint

But you wouldn't listen though

You wouldn't hear me no

Now I'm dead end, dead end

I told you I ain't no saint

But you wouldn't listen though

You wouldn't hear me no

Girls crazy