This shit is too fuckin real
Really ain't ready for this bruh

Mamas in the bottom of a bottle, lotta trauma (damn)
Me and Millie making music, escaping the problems (real)
Come summer, papas partially here, hardly father (fuck em)
Mama lost it, arguing about apartment options

Mary Lillie departed
Papa got farther apart, acting retarded
Fucking on women, they’re twenty something, his vision is stuck in rooms
With Barbara and teenage bitches
But mama’s smarter, victim and a martyr
Had his daughter, heard em cheating
Sipping vodka while she’s watching
Weighing options while in Cabo
Long way from Alton

*grandma*
Hey therе Mr. J! It’s Gran
I was calling cause I wanted to talk to you and check on ya
And so, uh, whеn you get the message, and you have some time…
Just let me know you’re doing okay
You can call me or just text me if you don’t have a lot of time to talk
So, follow through please sir
I love you! I’ll talk with you later
…fuck…

I don’t mean to sound too preachy
Cause my words be bit too churchy
We know life just ain’t that easy
Not peaches, no Justin Bieber
Cutting bowls out the bottom of two liters
Had to hold that shit together, when I cut my damn finger
Remember granny had Activa, think sativa made me evil
Didn’t pick up my phone either, now grammy is in the Ether
So I can’t reach her…
Just wish that I could see her
Wish I wasn’t as conceited

Yeah that’s true

Mamas in the bottom of a bottle, lotta trauma (damn)
Me and Millie making music, escaping the problems (real)
Come summer, papas partially here, hardly father (fuck em)
Mama lost it, arguing about apartment options (no)
Mamas in the bottom of a bottle, lotta trauma (yeah)

Rather be me than be nothing
Rather see things than be focused
Rather smoke weed than be sober
Rather bachelor than a husband
Rather bastard than be perfect
Rather get hit and be hurting
Than my life end up real boring
Yeah that’s true
Yeah that's true
Yeah that's true
Yeah that's true
Yeah that-

Mamas in the bottom of a bottle, lotta trauma
Me and Millie making music, escaping the problems
Come summer, papas partially here, hardly father
Mama lost it, arguing about apartment options
Mamas in the bottom of a bottle, lotta trauma

Follow through, please sir. I love you… talk with you later