Strawberry Swing Lyrics

Lil mama, you burn weed like it's rubbed sage

Then hit the club scene 'til it's Sunday

You don't get much sleep

Baby you're such a machine

It's scarlet and sweet, it's a strawberry swing

I can't feel a thing, my heart's made of string

Ought to flee the scene before my demons start leeching

But the hard part's leaving, the scars start bleeding

This shit made me tear up and I don't really feel much

I set fire to grapevine, high climbing wisteria

Mind in delirium from all of this hysteria

Beam me up with helium, I wanna leave the area

Because the demons reach onto the fiends of America

We're already six feet deep before our burials

And that's why the angels don't know where to carry us

But our particles gonna melt then glow into fairy dust

When I puff haze I fight my demons like it's rubbed sage

I'd quit the nic but feel I need it but my lungs ache

Imma pour pink into my drink 'til Easter Sunday

I need a savior, a queen, a Zendaya

You still look good with no makeup

And a breakout after a break up

But don't stay around if it ain't the same love

You're the creature's creator

A real freak of nature

When you puff haze you fight your demons like it's rubbed sage

Then hit the club scene from Friday to Sunday

Then punch your time while hungover on a Monday

You don't want shine, you like avoiding all the sun

You're the creature's creator, a freak of nature

There's beauty in the beast

I just cannot tame her

No more time to savor

I cannot save her

I think you should get away

You don't need to feel my pain

I get lovestruck by rekindled flames

But it's lust buzz, they all get away

Just my dumb luck, another scribbled page

Troubled, puzzled by my riddled fate

I'm a mutt pup muzzled

Can't feel the muscles in my face

I'm nothing but trouble

I detonate then set ablaze

Pyromania, I'm made of flame

That's why I think you should get away

You don't need to feel my pain

On the interstate I let the ceiling vent

While the wind incinerate my cigarette

Ashed up dinner plate, never dinner guests

Pad for illustration when I feel depressed

Gas no ventilation, I'm a silhouette

I'll ride Godspeed into oblivion

The sun rays paint such a radiant image

It adjusts my circadian rhythm

But I still stay up late because my brain is a prison

I'm a cicada, can't seem to shake off my skin

I lay awake while I wade in the wake of the wave

On the weight of the wind

Cradle to the grave, prenatal to the fate

I came a long way just to cave in, fin