Texty:
Hurt Numbers

really needed a friend At least until the end Would you give me life support? It never has to end These are the numbers Let me look at the numbers Now

really needed a friend At least until the end Would you give me life support? It never has to end These are the numbers Let me look at the numbers Now

Be this sunset soon forgotten Your brothers left here shaved and crazy We've learned to hide our bottles in the well And what's worth keeping, sun

bathroom, flat irons and nail files Spending hours in salons on your hairstyles In the mall steady racking up the air miles Hit the gym, step on the scales stare at the number

, ha Georgia was a summer job And Bama was a spring break I got memories all over the place But only one still hurts, only one still hurts Like Texas

to her Raise her birthday, cut yo' - Son Gun-the-Gun Son's guns stompin' dirt, hurts come at runnier Club tumblers who thug wit' us - double up Comes

feeling numb You're not the only one I'll take you by the hand And I'll show you a world that you can understand This life is filled with hurt When

be poppin' tags, pimpin' we be poppin' tags Uh huh, whattup? Tell you somethin' bout me My throwback game is whiffle wicked Saint Patty's day, green pinstripe, number

now I can change your mind, turn it all around I now that I'm drunk but I see the worst If she'll listen this time even though this lust I'll dial her number