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• Artiste: poptropicaslutz!
• Titre: Mdma Keeps The Doctor Away
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Would you die where you walk? Would you die on that hill or would you just tumble off? The way you wear that dress, like you're doin' it a favor Is it easy to slip off? Or the six inch heels, got your head in the loft Rent's due on the first, but fuck it, you brush it off When you step in that club, ain't no problems to solve All your problems dissolve, little MDMA to keep the doctor away He's got money in a safe, so you slide to his— So you slide to his place and you laugh, ha-ha-ha Right to the bank, it's like clockwork It's a clockwork take, you should probably get a raise You've been juggin' for days Throwin' dirt, throwin' dirt, but first, you need a name In a hearse, switchin' lanes like I'm dead to you Like I'm dead to you But you were my claim to fame And it hurts, we would always make it work Your pockets were never hurt, but now I'm dead to you Now I'm dead to you Oh, she likes the finer things Way she acting in this club, would have thought she won a ring She'll be cuttin' off the 'net when the fat lady sings You're a nightcrawler, a Little Tike baller But it's o-natural, so they're sprung off the wall Got 'em breakin' they necks, got 'em droppin' their jaws And it's all for your cause Ever since you looked like a kaws, you been breakin' the laws It's real gold She looks like best in show It's not sustainable She jet sets across the globe Until she ends up broke It goes faster than you know Soon, she'll be running She'll, she'll, she'll be running Soon, she'll be running home She's been breaching contract with the tact of a con Baby, come back Need you right here in my arms We don't gotta do biz', if that isn't what you want Just know She's been breaching contract with the tact of a con Baby, come back Need you right here in my arms We don't gotta do biz', if that isn't what you want Just know Throwin' dirt, throwin' dirt, but first, you need a name In a hearse, switchin' lanes like I'm dead to you Like I'm dead to you But you were my claim to fame And it hurts, we would always make it work Your pockets were never hurt, but now I'm dead to you Now I'm dead to you Throwin' dirt, throwin' dirt, but first, you need a name In a hearse, switchin' lanes like I'm dead to you Like I'm dead to you But you were my claim to fame And it hurts, we would always make it work Your pockets were never hurt, but now I'm dead to you Now I'm dead to you