FML After Hours Mix by Jam Baxter x Lee Scott Lyrics
[Verse 1 - Jam Baxter]
Might smell the money on the breath
Grey suits sullying the flesh
I scripted the next three seasons of your life and it ain't ending well
There ain't the faint and distance ringing of a wedding bell
Stuck under the covers of your butters double bed in hell
Staring at the ceiling screaming FML
[Verse 1 - Jam Baxter]
Yeah, they might smell the money on the breath or not
Grey suits sullying the flesh
But this is that kid with the frostbitten face that learnt to get wasted for studying the best
See, my brain expand in a space
Swelling with intangible weight
The style's in the beats, child, used tin of meat, I'll trample your face
Whole city full of actors, all working behind the scenes
I saw Costumes stitch your ear to ear smile on
Stroll on set like benign machines
Ey
Wagwan bonsoir monsieur
Wrong street wrong yard wrong door
In Bangkok backing that Yardong raw
I've written the next few chapters of your life, it ain't an easy read
Splashed the next drop of acid in my GnT
See your demons dripping out your nostrils when you speak to me
Horses heads in every bed up in my B&B
[Verse 2 - Lee Scott]
In the days when I used to blaze haze, get wrecked and sit about
Drunk and with a major malfunction, I had yet to figure out
Pigging out, Pound Pizza and a litre of coke, for the E&J
I pledged to stay never less than a few feet away from the edge
Straight into Gregg's next door, eyes red-raw
What you wanna fuck about and pay your rent for?
Never said more than that, call me back when you've got the answer
Chong a cancer stick, stick to the stomach of the shit
But he wouldn't quit, quick, slip
Give yourself lip then dip
Fuck hangin' abandon ship
Take a trip to the dark side on a one-way ticket
Shit to do, it's been a long-day, jib it
I think I'm through with it, me new gimmick;
Start some shit and leave the print of me boot in it
Lose spirit in an instance, sanity sauntering off, nothing more than a dot in the distance
Ponder existence, then kill it off, till the whole game's written off
Pick the lock then pick em off
Only think to stop to piss and cough
Even then I keep firing, how can you be this sweg it seems tiring?
Easy, I just wake up and I be me
While ET's tryna phone home using Whatsapp with no 3G
[Outro - Jam Baxter]
I scripted the next three seasons of your life and it ain't ending well
There ain't the faint and distant ringing of a wedding bell
Stuck under the covers of your butters double bed in hell
Staring at the ceiling screaming FML, FML
Might smell the money on the breath
Grey suits sullying the flesh
I scripted the next three seasons of your life and it ain't ending well
There ain't the faint and distance ringing of a wedding bell
Stuck under the covers of your butters double bed in hell
Staring at the ceiling screaming FML
[Verse 1 - Jam Baxter]
Yeah, they might smell the money on the breath or not
Grey suits sullying the flesh
But this is that kid with the frostbitten face that learnt to get wasted for studying the best
See, my brain expand in a space
Swelling with intangible weight
The style's in the beats, child, used tin of meat, I'll trample your face
Whole city full of actors, all working behind the scenes
I saw Costumes stitch your ear to ear smile on
Stroll on set like benign machines
Ey
Wagwan bonsoir monsieur
Wrong street wrong yard wrong door
In Bangkok backing that Yardong raw
I've written the next few chapters of your life, it ain't an easy read
Splashed the next drop of acid in my GnT
See your demons dripping out your nostrils when you speak to me
Horses heads in every bed up in my B&B
[Verse 2 - Lee Scott]
In the days when I used to blaze haze, get wrecked and sit about
Drunk and with a major malfunction, I had yet to figure out
Pigging out, Pound Pizza and a litre of coke, for the E&J
I pledged to stay never less than a few feet away from the edge
Straight into Gregg's next door, eyes red-raw
What you wanna fuck about and pay your rent for?
Never said more than that, call me back when you've got the answer
Chong a cancer stick, stick to the stomach of the shit
But he wouldn't quit, quick, slip
Give yourself lip then dip
Fuck hangin' abandon ship
Take a trip to the dark side on a one-way ticket
Shit to do, it's been a long-day, jib it
I think I'm through with it, me new gimmick;
Start some shit and leave the print of me boot in it
Lose spirit in an instance, sanity sauntering off, nothing more than a dot in the distance
Ponder existence, then kill it off, till the whole game's written off
Pick the lock then pick em off
Only think to stop to piss and cough
Even then I keep firing, how can you be this sweg it seems tiring?
Easy, I just wake up and I be me
While ET's tryna phone home using Whatsapp with no 3G
[Outro - Jam Baxter]
I scripted the next three seasons of your life and it ain't ending well
There ain't the faint and distant ringing of a wedding bell
Stuck under the covers of your butters double bed in hell
Staring at the ceiling screaming FML, FML