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Teenage Disaster - walk away as the door slams Lyrics



Teenage Disaster - walk away as the door slams Lyrics




[ Featuring BigKazen ]

Club lights, we fight every night
(Every night) baby, I don't wanna do that
(I don't wanna do that)
Your type, jeans tight, Dirty Sprite
(Dirty Sprite)
She like, "How the f*ck you do that?"
(How the f*ck you do that?)
I can't be there all the time (All the time)
But you know I gotta prove that
(Know I gotta prove that)
I can't leave here anytime soon (Nah)
I got somethin' to do, yeah

Walk away as the door slams (Door slams)
You got blood on your poor hands (Poor hands)
I just wanted to help
Now I'm goin' to hell
Walk away as the door slams

Yeah, I know you wanna FaceTime, baby
I have Samsung when I met your mom
She told me I was handsome
You told me I'm sexy
Do you still think that?
You told me you loved me
Do you still think that?
3am, climbin' through your window
Ounce of the kush
Blowin' smoke out your window
You're a thousand miles away
I snort a thousand lines step into the club
Cameras flashin' in my eyes

Club lights, we fight every night
(Every night) baby, I don't wanna do that
(I don't wanna do that)
Your type, jeans tight, Dirty Sprite
(Dirty Sprite)
She like, "How the f*ck you do that?"
(How the f*ck you do that?)
I can't be there all the time (All the time)
But you know I gotta prove that
(Know I gotta prove that)
I can't leave here anytime soon (Nah)
I got somethin' to do, yeah

Walk away as the door slams (Door slams)
You got blood on your poor hands (Poor hands)
I just wanted to help
Now I'm goin' to hell
Walk away as the door slams
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Club lights, we fight every night
(Every night) baby, I don't wanna do that
(I don't wanna do that)
Your type, jeans tight, Dirty Sprite
(Dirty Sprite)
She like, "How the f*ck you do that?"
(How the f*ck you do that?)
I can't be there all the time (All the time)
But you know I gotta prove that
(Know I gotta prove that)
I can't leave here anytime soon (Nah)
I got somethin' to do, yeah

Walk away as the door slams (Door slams)
You got blood on your poor hands (Poor hands)
I just wanted to help
Now I'm goin' to hell
Walk away as the door slams

Yeah, I know you wanna FaceTime, baby
I have Samsung when I met your mom
She told me I was handsome
You told me I'm sexy
Do you still think that?
You told me you loved me
Do you still think that?
3am, climbin' through your window
Ounce of the kush
Blowin' smoke out your window
You're a thousand miles away
I snort a thousand lines step into the club
Cameras flashin' in my eyes

Club lights, we fight every night
(Every night) baby, I don't wanna do that
(I don't wanna do that)
Your type, jeans tight, Dirty Sprite
(Dirty Sprite)
She like, "How the f*ck you do that?"
(How the f*ck you do that?)
I can't be there all the time (All the time)
But you know I gotta prove that
(Know I gotta prove that)
I can't leave here anytime soon (Nah)
I got somethin' to do, yeah

Walk away as the door slams (Door slams)
You got blood on your poor hands (Poor hands)
I just wanted to help
Now I'm goin' to hell
Walk away as the door slams
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Cody Littlefield, George Astasio, Gustav Elijah Ahr, Jason Andrew Pebworth, Jazz Ishmael Butler, Jonathan Christopher Shave
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




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