More songs by Jessie Reyez
Description
Producer: SCUM
Producer, Composer Lyricist: Joe Harrison
Producer: 9TH OF FEB
Composer Lyricist, Vocal Producer, Programming Engineer: Jermi Thomas
Background Vocalist, Vocal Producer: Trey Campbell
Recording Engineer: Nicci Gomez
Recording Engineer: Chad "KM" Kitchens
Mixing Engineer: DJ Riggins
A& R: Imran Majid
A& R: Jermi Thomas for FMLY, Inc
Recording Engineer: Karl Wingate
Aand Rcoordinator: Sundhya Alter
Aand Radministrator: Gabrielle Rosen
Mastering Engineer: Mike Bozzi
Composer Lyricist: Jessie Reyez
Composer Lyricist: Ty Donaldson
Composer Lyricist: Chris “BongoByTheWay” Uforo
Lyrics and translation
Original
I see why God, yeah.
Mm, mm.
I see why God didn't want us to go and eat the fruit. Man, I swear sometimes I wish
I was dumb.
Then I'd be one of these dumb motherfuckers just smiling with nothing to lose. Oh, my God. Wish being dumb was something I could choose.
Then loving you would be something I'd do, and I'd be one of your bitches just smiling like it ain't a thing.
But you're allergic to the truth, like the truth just ain't your shoe size. Poking through them holes like you be poking through them holes.
But you're allergic to the truth, like the truth just ain't your shoe size.
Poking through them holes like you be poking through them holes. And I'm alone again.
Don't call me, I ain't your fucking friend.
Shocking. I'm alone again.
Don't call me, I ain't your fucking friend.
I see why God, God didn't want us to go eat the fruit.
Man, I swear sometimes I wish I was dumb.
Then I'd be one of these dumb motherfuckers just smiling with nothing to lose. Oh, my God. Wish being dumb was something I could choose.
Then loving you would be something I'd do, instead of one of these bitches with something to prove.
But you're allergic to the truth, like the truth just ain't your shoe size. Poking through them holes like you be poking through them holes.
And you're allergic to the truth, like the truth just ain't your shoe size.
And you're poking through them holes like you be stroking on them hoes.
And I'm alone again.
Don't call me, boy, I ain't your fucking friend.
Yeah.
I'm alone again. Don't call me.
I'm not your fucking friend.
Pinocchio's nose.
You're just another missed call. Missed having it all, 'cause you're alone again.
Oh.
You're just another missed call.
Missed having it all 'cause you're alone again.
You're just another missed call. Missed having it all.
I'm not your fucking -friend.
-If we never speak again, whoop-de-doo!
Whoop-de-damn-doo!
Thank you.