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letra de left (no good) - clara bizna$

[intro: clara bizna$$]
ha ha
f-cking, amy winehouse was so good, man
rip, sweet angel

[verse 1]
(ayo) we met cute, you were in the gucci sweatsuit
asked me my name and i was like, “groot?”
blah blah blah as i stuttered over my languages
then you produced your palm and five phalanges
after meeting got to twiggy-tweeting
ats and dms and i hoped it wasn’t fleeting
heating, hot: radiator. you got the check and i told my client
“pay me later!” that was uncharacteristic
what happened next was something kinda mystic
d-ck pics in triptych, then you dipped it, then you dipped quick, what the f-ck is this sh-t? you make my skin itch!
you should know better than to dismiss bizna$$
you made my sh-t list!
then you threw a b-tch fit?
to contradict the misfits
you’re a godd-mn son of a b-tch

[hook]
gimme a quarter cuz i played myself, like i knew i motherf-cking would
i knew your -ss was trouble
i should’ve swiped left cuz you’re no f-cking good

[verse 2]
never claimed to be a native, but i made it here
you mad about that? could you make it anywhere?
i wanna see you touch down in a trailer park in west virginia, see how well you make it with that new york in ya
engaged to the game (not the man) but i fancy tattoos on the face and the hands
thirty-year-old skater boi my kryptonite, tryptophan, and baby we could trip tonight
kick off ya vans i got the xans (d-mn)
it ain’t happy ever after, y’all
just a little adderall and hit it like paddleball
duty calls, never forget when you
crashed into my heart (i mean bed) like a jumbo jet
ghosted? naw, you’re too sweet for that. i called ash like “yo my heart’s in the trash!”
well, that’s that. my odds are stacked. you go on back to her and i’ll go back to the apps

[hook]
gimme a quarter cuz i played myself, like i knew i motherf-cking would
i knew your -ss was trouble
i should’ve swiped left cuz you’re no f-cking good

[verse 3]
lots of blood in my food from the hands that i’ve bitten
but i’m chillin, still got half of them smitten
feeling kinda lonely, eat tostones
betty boop in my hoops b-tch, you don’t know me!
atms that dispense in tens, i got no money but lots of friends
at ease, gets none of these, social disease
hey, we’re the only white people here, aziz!
see him with the tats? i’d rim that. everybody with a flat brim hat at
broadway and myrtle
romance? slim chance
doing same old internet dance
scooby dooby doo i love you in your blue jeans, white shirt
the combination made my eyes burn
am i ever gonna f-ckin learn?!

[hook]
gimme a quarter cuz i played myself, like i knew i motherf-cking would
i knew your -ss was trouble
i should’ve swiped left cuz you’re no f-cking good

b-tch!

here’s a quarter, you played yourself, like i knew you motherf-cking would
i knew your -ss was trouble
i should’ve swiped left cuz you’re no f-cking good

- clara bizna

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