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letra de dime a dozen - huddyleango

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i would get sh-t for days… if i quit it

everyone in their ways, they a critic

stacking it like some lays, then they widdit

if i ain’t winning’ then what’s the incentive

the way you be talking bout me is pathetic

intro:

yuh, yuh

tired of constantly running

tired of, tired of constantly running

tired of constantly running

hmph, sick

hook:

sick to my stomach (bleh!)

not to much room at the summit

tired of constantly running

girl you might plummet

you were controlling me just like a puppet

you ain’t a dime or a dozen

tired of constantly lovin’

i might submit to the buzzing

tired of what i’m becoming

wired and run-in’

am i just running to nothing ?

sick to my stomach (bleh!)

not to much room at the summit

tired of constantly running

girl you might plummet

you were controlling me just like a puppet

you ain’t a dime or a dozen

tired of constantly lovin’

i might submit to the buzzing

tired of what i’m becoming

wired and run-in’

am i just running to nothing ?

verse:

i had to dip up and out of the function

brain being troublesome, trying to function

too many people so imma stay sunken

uhh… it’s nothing. better stay hidden

broken hearts, in my sheets in my linens

women sharp, they been cutting my vision

so make a decision, you made the incision

keep on cutting you won’t find nothing in it

i got a gl-ss sh-ll, keep it tinted

had to stay motivated, get inventive

imma get better just give me a minute

i would get sh-t for days… if i quit it

everyone in their ways, they a critic

stacking it like some lays, then they widdit

if i ain’t winning’ then what’s the incentive

the way you be talking bout me is pathetic

hook:

sick to my stomach, (bleh!)

not to much room at the summit

tired of constantly running

girl you might plummet

you were controlling me just like a puppet

you ain’t a dime or a dozen

tired of constantly lovin’

i might submit to the buzzing

tired of what i’m becoming

wired and run-in’

am i just running to nothing ?

sick to my stomach, (bleh!)

not to much room at the summit

tired of constantly running

girl you might plummet

you were controlling me just like a puppet

you ain’t a dime or a dozen

tired of constantly lovin’

i might submit to the buzzing

tired of what i’m becoming

wired and run-in’

am i just running to nothing ?

- huddyleango

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