Verse 1

Prod. Emerald:

Let me go, let me go

I'm gon' tell my boys and they gon' go

Keep her on my side, I said we goals

Girl, I don't got ego, I won’t ghost

But I’m not ‘gon let you search my phone

Tell me why, girl, you like that guy

We both know he gon' ruin your life

Thought you was gon' be my wife

Chorus

Thought you was gon' be my ride or die, die

I'm flyer than a kite, oh why

I watch that love fade from your eyes, yeah

That girl, she stalk me like a spy, oh why

I'm just gon' keep on making fire

Liar in the room, I love my God, he got me out my mood

I feel like Abe, and my haters John Booth

I feel like Travis, girl, we got that Jamba Juice

Don't let me down again, oh, oh, oh

I'm just getting better, man, I'm just getting better, man

She’s strong for a fan, ayy

My music turned my ex to a fan

Verse 2

I’d be so sorry to be you, your music stinks like P-U

I’m in a Lambo, you’re in a Kia, hand on my heater

Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh

Verse 3 / Refrain

I'm gon' tell my boys and they gon' go

Keep her on my side, I said we goals

Girl, I don't got an ego, I won’t ghost

But not gonna let you search my phone

Tell me why, girl, you like that guy

We both know he gon' ruin your life

Thought you was gon' be my wife

Thought you was gon' be my ride or die, die

Oh, baby, I'm flyer than a kite, oh, why?

I watched that love fade from your eyes, yeah

That girl, she stalked me like a spy, oh, why?

I'm just gon' keep on makin' fire

Bridge / Outro

Liar in the room, ayy, I love my God, he got me out my mood, ayy

I feel like Abe, and my haters John Booth, ayy

I feel like Travis, girl, we got that Jamba Juice, ayy

Don't let me down again, oh, oh

I just hit better, man, I'm just gettin' better, man

She's strong for her fan, ayy

My music turned my ex to a fan

Narration / Ending

Narrator:

You know son, fame’s a funny thing. Folks cheer for ‘ya until the light reaches their own reflection

He dropped that video, told the truth of what really went on at that school

And that’s when the facade started to crack. All that perfect wallpaper peeling off, showing the rot underneath

Those rich kids didn't want the truth fixed

They wanted it buried, they wanted him gone