Boulevard apartment
That was in 2007, when I drove you back from Philly then
You were with me there in secret
I was markin' out for that feelin'
Like I know it's real, cause' I feel it
And I hate to make you feel morally in debt
I wish you were on my arm
Want you tattooed on my neck
I hate to make you feel more than depressed
Baby, I'm correctin' this mess
Because this summer I've had enough
I took too much
And I didn't see you enough
(And I didn't eat enough)
Crashed my car on Keyser, like I'm Tom May
Playin' twisted metal, like I'm Kanye
Movin' through these attitudes
Like we could not be speakin', then and still I come right back to you
I hate to make you feel more than incensed
I'm pullin' up with the best
See the prices goin' up
And I start to fade away
Final crisis of the heart passin' over me again
And I try to call you back, but can't remember anything
You're the CD in my car
You're the phone that never rings
And I hate to hold on restless feelin's
I crashed my car on Keyser, like I'm Tom May
Thank you, Black Kray...