paroles de chanson The Comments - Yeo

Empty on the inside
Washed up, spun out
Baby, you got nothing to hide
Getting paid to trying to graduate to the next grade
Make it out the nation, where my scene at?
My imagination, where you been at?

Why am I always scared – scared about the future?
Media ain′t something I could ever get used to
Made a mess, won't confess, don′t wanna hear it out
We all yelling so loud about like how
They all acting so damn happy right now
Who am I to say what these people pay?

Quit acting like you know it all

Why you always asking
Like the color of my skin changes everything drastic?
Money made, catching shade, got you bent over ass-kissing
You won't even listen
Pull up next to me, so that I can see
You think they're made of plastic
Bring them home
Bring them home
Bring them home
I′m telling you my country won′t
Recognize the killing that it's built on
Don′t want the weather with the guilt storm
Let them just get married
If they want to get married
Let them hit the altar in your white dress
Who are you to say what these people pay?
It's always been a whole lot more than you
I really hope my friends′ dreams do come true