HOPE (new year, new me) Lyrics

It feel like

Yo

It feel like

It feel like

Cyrus in tight dress on a wrecking ball

I say I'm less involved but the ice thin,

I might spiral into madness out in rhinebeck

Till I'm slurring my words like this

Fast forward, it's like a time skip

Then we're right back from the side quests

Then we're going and we setting off

Used to getting off with my right fist

Then I'm headed off this planet

While I'm looking for a side bitch

Where ever is my bitch

All this blabbing while writing my life up in a crisis

It's a damn shame

Just like depression and chronic neck pain

I separate from sections

To see for myself if the set changed

Net change- somewhere from $30 to 3 cents

I mean spent

There's no way I'm getting all this debt paid

Forget shame, I'd go on a collar

Just for a pet name

I'm desperate in a sad way

Halfway thinking of a sex change

That shits tame, my mama agape

When I said that I'm gay

Anyway it ends the same

I'm smoking out the window frame

It's innovation, titillating

With just the first three

Picture ways I imitate

Bigger names all in the industry

It's bigger than me

Simply making masterworks of symphonies

Exist for me

This simple life seems infinite

Of image dreams

I picture demons apparent within my shadow

I can out-know evil masters turn the legion into cattle

It's a battle I fight spiritually

And then some

Still hoping for an answer

While I hold myself for ransom

Hiding like a phantom

I'm a sample of a misfit

One last step

I'm an example of statistic

It's sadistic

Cuz if this clip hit this pig

Get to give this kid a new fitbit

yo if this clip hit

Then I won't live, my whole worldview'd be different

Ugh

Hopeful

I'm still bored

Yeah honestly nothing's changed

So give me a blanket and turn over

The show's over

You give me the cold shoulder

and no sober thoughts

It's been so hard

Got so nervous talking

I went off and I wrote bars

Face all red like

Rhubarb, yeah I shouldn't take this too far

When I'm sent off in

A stupor looking stupid

It drives me so wild

Got me nearly sold out

I solo the za like so loud

I look homeless in a home house

Proponents promoting faux clout

It's lonely up on these faux clouds

Brick air starts forming down

it's no doubt

Who this year's gonna be about

Well like the last three months

I wrote this in like January