mdma keeps the doctor away Lyrics by poptropicaslutz!
Would you die where you walk?
Would you die on that hill or would you just tumble off
The way you wear that dress, like you’re doin’ a favor
Is it easy as a walk?
Or the six inch heels, got your head in the loft
Rent’s due on the first, but fuck it, you brush it off
The way you step in that club, ain’t no callin’ sub
While your problems is off, little MDMA to keep the doctor away
He’s got money in a safe, so you slide to his—
So you slide to his place and you laugh, ha-ha-ha
Right to the bank, it’s like clockwork
It’s a clockwork take, you should probably get a raise
You’ve been judged all day
Throwin’ dirt, throwin’ dirt, but first, you need a name
In a hearse, switchin’ lanes like I’m dead to you
Like I’m dead to you
But you were my claim to fame
And it hurts, we would always make it work
Your pockets were never hurt, but now I’m dead to you
Now I’m dead to you
Oh, she likes the finer things
Way she acting in this club, would have thought she won a ring
She’ll cuttin’ off the ‘net when the fat lady sings
You’re a nightcrawler, little tight baller
But it’s all natural, so there’s throw-up the wall
Got ’em breakin’ they necks, got ’em droppin’ their jaws
And it’s all free the cause
Ever since you looked like a cause, you been breakin’ the laws
It’s real gold
She looks like this to show
It’s not sustainable
She jet sets across the globe
Until she ends up broke
It goes faster than you know
Soon, she’ll be running
She’ll, she’ll, she’ll be running
Soon, she’ll be running home
Tell me when she gon’ drop, look on top, just I called it
Met you out there [?]
Lot of good things, but that isn’t what you want, slow
Tell me when she gon’ drop, look on top, just I called it
Met you out there [?]
Lot of good things, but that isn’t what you want, slow
Throwin’ dirt, throwin’ dirt, but first, you need a name
In a hearse, switchin’ lanes like I’m dead to you
Like I’m dead to you
But you were my claim to fame
And it hurts, we would always make it work
Your pockets were never hurt, but now I’m dead to you
Now I’m dead to you
Throwin’ dirt, throwin’ dirt, but first, you need a name
In a hearse, switchin’ lanes like I’m dead to you
Like I’m dead to you
But you were my claim to fame
And it hurts, we would always make it work
Your pockets were never hurt, but now I’m dead to you
Now I’m dead to you