A.B. Original, Caiti Baker - Sorry lyrics

[A.B. Original, Caiti Baker - Sorry lyrics]

I'm sorry you're sorry
La-di la da-di la da la
I'm sorry, you're sorry
You caught some feelings from me
I might just kill somebody
La-di la da-di la da la
I'm sorry, you're sorry
You caught some feelings from me
I might just kill somebody
You make me feel some kind of way
La-di la da-di la da la
La-di la da-di la da la
La-di la da-di la da la
You make me feel some kind of way

Ayy, B! Yo i said, catch me politickin'
With this politician
Ripped him out of office i promise
We keep it G without the thousand dollars
To our name sake, me and B
The same name in camouflage
Dropped so many S's off my
Chest they call it Abotage camo cars
Looking for that buzz like I'ma land on Mars
They tried to ride along
But none could ever handle bars
Heavy on the hallion
My strings bring Adele in
Eureka on the speaker
That must mean that I'ma gellin'
Now I'm back, so they
Steppin', and I'm black, so they stressin'
That the fact that my weapon is just that
I'm black, so they terrified
Put the song on record so it never dies
I did the wrongs so my son
Could always get it right
What's being known if you ain't ever
Leaving home and speakin' on it?
You want a gimmick? Try being honest
That's a rare commodity in this here economy
But ayy
Me n' B'll make 'em see like Pam & Tommy Lee

I'm sorry, you're sorry
You caught some feelings from me
(No apologies) i might just kill somebody
La-di la da-di la da la

I took that white money
Turned that to my money
Round up the squad, don't worry who I sign
Buddy
You don't like me or T? That's just fine
Honey talkin' all that bullshit and now
They tryna hide from me please, Briggs
You don't wanna shoot the messengers
But, I wanna do somethin'
To leave the messages livin' proof
You're gonna learn what the lesson is
You fuck around and I'ma have to
Make a mess of yas
I got a letter from the government
Took it where my oven is
Cooked it on the stove top, fuck 'em
I want none of it
I asked 'em where my cousin went
You had him in your fuckin' pen
Killed him, got a holiday
That's not a punishment
So line up the white like I'm Maradona
You fucked around and made do some
Shit that I don't wanna
Apologies, don't follow me or you're a goner
I know you're sorry, and I'm sorry
But I gotta

I'm sorry, you're sorry
You caught some feelings from me
I might just kill somebody
La-di la da-di la da la
I'm sorry, you're sorry
You caught some feelings from me
I might just kill somebody
You make me feel some kind of way
La-di la da-di la da la
La-di la da-di la da la
La-di la da-di la da la
Here come the pallbearers, yeah
Bury, bury, bury you deep
Deep down, down, down, down
La-di la da-di la da la six feet under

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