Jon Bellion - Confusing Me lyrics

Ahe he hem it's so lovely yeah

(Yes sir) yes sir, I'm an overachiever
Tell me something different and
I won't believe ya might need some Vitamin C
'Cause the flow so sick
Might give you a fever
But this ain't 'bout that
This about the fact that she's a death trap
Let me give you the run down
'Cause she gon' have you guessin'
From sun-up to sun down
I'm dancing, I'm dancing, doing my thang
I mean, I'm diddy-boppin', chillin'
Lettin' my shoulders swang
Gettin' my swag on, my swag on, yep
I said my swag on
Y'all be like that XBOX connections
Gettin' your lag on

She tells me what she wants
But that's not what she needs
She tells me what she needs
But that's not what she wants
I think I gotta wake up
I think I gotta wake up
I think I gotta wake up, wake up
She changes up her mind on the flip of a dime
She goes from white to black on
The flip of a hat
I guess I gotta wake up, this stuff
I couldn't make up
I'm standing there like, "Wait, what?"
(Yes sir)

You be confusing me, girl
You be confusing me
You be confusing me, girl
You be confusing me (Yes sir)
You be confusing me, girl
You be confusing me co-co-confusing me

She want this, she want that
She want this, and she want that (Yes sir)
She want this, she want that (Yes sir)
She want this, now she want that (Yes sir)
(Yes sir, yes sir)

Yeah, yup, let's go
Put your hands straight up if
You're sick of the chase
Put your hands straight up if
You're sick of the chase
Run around like a chicken with
Your head cut off just 'cause a pretty girl
Be shakin' her waist
Put your hands straight up if
You're sick of the chase
Put your hands straight up if
You're sick of the chase
'Cause an ugly guy got a
Money clip on his waist

Uh oh, is this a song written
With no sexual references?
Well, I don't man, it's kinda close, man
Is it okay to dance to this? I don't know
He's not talkin' 'bout drugs or thugs
Or nothin' gangster like guns
Or bein' so hard, or bein' so tough

Like every other rapper on Long Island does
I'm sorry it's the same recycled garbage
Artist 'tends to be harder than he really is
Just to make his millions, millions, billions
(A milli, a milli, a milli, a milli-million)
How many ways can you shoot me
Push me, punch me, bump me, bruise me?
And this isn't a diss to any man
I'm sorry to change the subject, but damn

You be confusing me, man, you be confusing me
You be confusing me, man, you be confusing me
You be confusing me
You people just confusing me
You keep confusing me, man, man, confusing me

We want this, we want that
We want this and we want that
(Yes sir, yes sir)
We want this, we want that (Yes sir, yes sir)
We want this, then we want that
(Yes sir, yes sir)
We want this, we want that (Yes sir)
We want this, then we want that, yeah

This kid comes up to me, true story
Comes up to me, says, "Yo man
Your beats are crazy man
I heard 'em from my friend, man
Your songs are dope but they're too clean"
I'm like, "What? They're too clean?
What are you talkin' about, man?"
He's like, "yeah, you never curse
You never do this, you never do that"
You know what I'm gonna have to do now?
Make 'em cleaner