I Made This Song in Three Hours Lyrics

Depressed depressed she's depressed

I'm not blessed

I get no rest

Are you not impressed

Fucker of the arts triple charts

With no head starts

Only thing my head got is smarts

If you only had a brain I'm breaking all these hearts

Ima go straight into their carts

All these wherefore arts

Ain't where it's why and why, no lie, is your end is nigh

Your'e musty and your music dry

Im knuckle dusty and not afraid to die

I'm crazy, you're lazy

Lay-dies are pimps too ask Jay Z

Go tell your ghostwriter this is how you do this shit

I made this song in 3 hours, go on and quit

My therapist got me fucked up

I get out of bed, isn't that enough

Oh she's manic oh it's rough

I made two songs today, that's not a bluff

No bitch, no time for other stuff

I sit the the dark and hope I cause a spark

Hit a mark

Fuck I'm ready to drown a shark

This is a walk in the park

Pick a genre or a landmark

UK and NZ say on your mark

Radio says hark

Behold label-less, unstableness, but ableness

To show you how it's done

Shit was made in a basement hun

All by me for fun

I write poems around your ass like English 101

You have a dry spell I have no dry run

Bills lellish is no one

The US many a shit for brain so I don't care if they shun

They don't like how I'm NOT spun

Don't get my lyrics

Have you heard of a pun

Yeah, zero fans can be outdone

But how many of their songs are actually well done son

And who wrote those for them, chum

Call that the ghost writer no brighter

Than the foo fighter who grew whiter

And didn't have to fire

Kurt cobain

He did that and not with a flame

and what I'm trying to say all the same

Is music died and you're to blame

Did you get the pun; I put it plain

probably not herr shit for brain

Go tell your ghostwriter this is how you do this shit

I made this song in 3 hours, go on and quit

So I'm depressed well no not quite

I didn't see daylight but I got my pedialyte and my cats are alright

9-5 more like through the night

All I know is write

The doctors all afright

They're not at my height

Radio called me a genius, is my future bright

This life's a China shop to my bullfight

Girl outta nowhere

I don't care

If they don't spare

A like now, or dare

To hear me and even go there

Sorry Claire

Why don't you blare

Adele and maybe she'll care

To release a single song

Before too long

Like years, am I wrong

Her shits gonna sit atop the chart all year long

I'm a bitch not meant to belong

But I'm coming on strong

And my music is unalike

I didn't learn to ride a bike

But I never even rode a trike

When I was a tyke

I did whatever and without a Klondike

I'm different what's your counterstrike

Same shit, different day?

You really find that ok?

How to save a life like the Fray

Your music is 50 shades of grey

My dominatrix friends and I say

You don't know what you're missing mkay