No Saint

Oh they twist my words in quotations
Like I need any more motivation
I had no class, no money, no lady
Ex-pizza boy now I'm throwin' dough crazy
Crazy, no words can explain
The lack of ****s I give
These rappers need to suck my ****
As dry as the Sahara is
I got bars like Xanax, dealers
All my friends are pharmacists
Caterpillars in my hypothalamus they burrowing
You talk but, don't listen
I'm going through, some weird ****t
You move to, the rhythm
Of the city, that we live in
Woah
I told you I ain't no saint
But you wouldn't listen though
You wouldn't hear me no
You must be out your coconut
Going through my phone and stuff
Young, drunk Australian
I'm going Russell Crowe on ya
You say I'm a chauvinist
I say
Well, whose show is this
You know where the door is at
Or do I need to show you it
I became a monster somewhere
I'm retracing my steps
Studio, back home, her bedroom, studio
Well I'm just changing I guess
Cops used to stop me and say
I need your name and address
I would say 'Usain Bolt'
Then I gave it the legs
I don't get no happiness from their failures
I really wish them the best in this game yeah
I got all my own stress and these payslips
I don't get any rest
I'm awake all the time
In my room pacing like Indiana
I need Rihanna
Or somebody really similar
I've been off the drugs a while
I'm thinking clearer
I think I'm worse when I'm sober baby
Text my dealer
I told you I ain't no saint
But you wouldn't listen though
You wouldn't hear me no
Now I'm dead end, dead end
I told you I ain't no saint
But you wouldn't listen though
You wouldn't hear me no
The city gets us all down sometimes
But if you're having fun
Yeah
You're having fun
If you're having fun
You're not wasting time
You're not crazy, get crazy
It's a crazy life
You're like my lady
But you're not ladylike
Smoking haze until we get McGrady eye
Yeah we overtaking, Talladega Nights
Swerving through lanes on the way to mine
I don't give a **** what you talking bout
Angel of death in a boarded up town
You talk but, don't listen
I'm going through, some weird ****t
You move to, the rhythm
Of the city, that we live in
I told you I ain't no saint
But you wouldn't listen though
You wouldn't hear me no
Now I'm dead end, dead end
I told you I ain't no saint
But you wouldn't listen though
You wouldn't hear me no
Girls crazy