Songtexte bruce wayne - Phoenixinredd

(I'm going batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit crazy)
(I'm going batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit crazy)
(I'm going batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit crazy)

I'm going batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit crazy
I'm going batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit crazy
Call me Bruce, call me Wayne, I'm going batshit crazy
I got the passion, passion, passion, passion
It ain't fading, nah

I want plaques as home decor, call that HD, yeah
I don't owe the lord, he can pay me, yeah
She likes older boys, still gon' date me, yeah
Covid protocol, we masked up on scene
I'm just too nice for these rappers (Okay)
I'm just too hype for these rappers (Okay)
I'm just too clean for these actors (I know)
Won't pour a Sprite with these rappers (Okay)
I got that love for the music (I do)
Might put a mic in my casket (I will)
I will not quit till' there's gold on my wrist, and the jeweler puts ice on my Patek

Who you know more consistent?
Who you know more linguistic?
Once I'm finished with a beat, cops on the scene gotta call forensics
Yeah, the bars are expensive
Cars getting totaled, tar on the tires, gold in the fenders
Sold her soul whole to the Devil
Now she only do white like eugenics
Send me to the Senate, votes, Ima get em
Feel like Giannis, point-god, a menace
Life is a movie, don't roll the credits
Bitchboys make a story out an edit
She so dependent, I am her fetish
Those aren't facts, you read em' on Reddit
My words currency, I'll invest them
She on that old spice, don't sweat it
I never sweat it
I'm in her mouth like a dentist
I get ideas, I pen em
I get Adidas, they blacker than Venom
Felling like Regis, got Kelly green lettuce
Using my words as weapons
What's a bird to a feather?
What's a dollar to a peasant?
Smoking gas in a Tesla
Elon told me be better

Tattoos on my right arm
Tattoos on her left, yeah
We do it in the backrooms, and it's like we never met, yeah
I feel like a bad groom, no I do, just I guess
Turn around, we made a mess
Buckets, buckets like Ron Artest
Fuck it, fuck it, then take a rest
I'm out in London ducking IRS
The product jumping like it's tryna dunk
And the pot is bubbling, I could be a chef
Rappers trembling, they never met a worthy foe, and now they tryna step
Racketeering, it's too revealing how you never were what you said

I'm going batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit crazy
I'm going batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit, batshit crazy
Call me Bruce, call me Wayne, I'm going batshit crazy
I got the passion, passion, passion, passion
It ain't fading, nah