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letra de we sell hearts with no appeal - deema

[verse 1]
shawty want a lover
i been freaking different colour
said it’s for the summer
but i had to donald glover
city boy dumber than the adidas runner
somethings in the kitchen dinah open up the cupboard
i’m sick of doing similes
baby got her thing on me
wanna put a ring on me
sisters kyle kimberly
please don’t throw the bin at me
tell me where you been at least
got the fade i’m trimothy
now tell me are you kidding me?
i’m cooking up the dinner then you know i put it inna
told her that i’m with her but she thinking i’m a trick her
i am not a sinner sugar i have never seen her

[chorus]
i’m on road i’m on way
gotta go i can’t stay
get up low still up late
think i’m bro think i’m fake

[interlude]
this is a send for all creatives all collaborators
and those responsible
for the last few years of pain the poor listens have had to endure
please return your awards and hold the applause
cause one sure motherf-cker is coming with a cause
[verse 2]
yo, heel-toe the way i get it and go
bro i ain’t no promoter don’t get me to promote
just give me the p’s i’ll have all the g’s jumping like fleas
bring in the keys everybody freeze this ain’t the grease
see i’m coming different angle
n-ggas ain’t like me, i could never cancel
see them other artist pantie round dem ankle
sicked wicked shingles we don’t make no jingles
and we like to gamble
listen i been missing i’m coming a different way
and my missus got me tripping for something i didn’t say
is it me for i’m high and my eyes don’t show
or cause i’m young and i rap and my bags real low
yo, f-ck it though i cut it throw a bucket on my list
labels wanna sign me then they don’t and now they’re p-ssed
yo, if everything was bless then it wouldn’t be so bliss
but some people i’d rather cuss than kiss

[chorus]
i’m on road i’m on way
gotta go i can’t stay
get up low still up late (yeah, yeah, yeah)
think i’m bro think i’m fake (yeah, yeah)

[outro]
we sell hearts with no appeal
you can’t tell me what’s real (real)
that’s how i feel (feel)
still (still)
still (still)
we sell hearts with no appeal
you can’t tell me what’s real (real)
that’s how i feel (feel)
still (still)

- deema

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