Happy F*ckin’ Birthday to Me

Confessional blend of Indie Hip Hop, Alt Rap, and Scandinavian Pop with gritty female vocals, and melodic hooks, BPM: 122, club beat, club house

Happy...
Fucking...
Birthday.
(To me.)

Swollen eyes, yeah, here we go
You said I deserved more – then dipped, bro
You're laid up warm with somebody new
I’m here with coffee, cold and truth

Left me on read, left me on pause
Said you loved me – with asterisk clause
You loved in fragments, broke what I built
I cleaned it up, you left with guilt

Happy, happy birthday to me
You out the country, someone else says “we”
No damn fanfare – just a text from the store
“Happy birthday” – wow, I’m floored

Happy fucking birthday to me
You gave me lies, now I give you peace
Mascara runnin', but I’m on my feet
Stronger than my damn résumé, capisce?

You said “space,” you said “trees and fire”
But called her from that camp like a fucking liar
That mug I gave? Cracked and done
Not hate – just me, seeing shit for what it was

You know what’s funny?
You say you’ve been unsure all morning.
Unsure if you should send me something.
As if I’m still here, waiting for you to decide.
You hope it "lands okay"
But I already left the runway, babe.

You write like you’re soft.
Like you’re brave for pressing send.
But you’re just trying to feel better
About not being better
When it actually mattered.

I stayed.
I stayed through the silence, the shifts,
the versions of you I didn’t recognize.
I answered your dry-ass texts
like they were truth.
They weren’t.
They still aren’t.

You said it’s “just a phase,” right
But forgot to show your true side
So I toast myself, cold wine in hand
And that fake-ass “us” gets canned

And yeah, I’m celebrating
With Dubai chocolate and overpriced wine
It’s sweet and sad – like this whole design
Cheers. I’m fine.

Happy, happy birthday to me
You got your shows, I got receipts
You dropped hearts like that meant a thing
I looked down like, what even is this thing?

Happy fucking birthday to me
You chose silence, I chose honesty
Mascara smudged but I’m elite
Might buy myself something on credit – just for me

No cake, no candles, no crowd
Just me, and I’m saying it loud
Yeah, I’m tired, but I’m upright
Ain’t nobody killin’ this light

Happy, happy birthday to me
No gift from you – I’m finally free
I might cry, but it’s designer tears
So here’s to me – I’m the vibe in here
Mascara, red wine, and Dubai chocolate tonight

Cheers to me.
Just me.
Still me.

2290/7500

Happy... Fucking... Birthday. (To me.) Swollen eyes, yeah, here we go You said I deserved more – then dipped, bro You're laid up warm with somebody new I’m here with coffee, cold and truth Left me on read, left me on pause Said you loved me – with asterisk clause You loved in fragments, broke what I built I cleaned it up, you left with guilt Happy, happy birthday to me You out the country, someone else says “we” No damn fanfare – just a text from the store “Happy birthday” – wow, I’m floored Happy fucking birthday to me You gave me lies, now I give you peace Mascara runnin', but I’m on my feet Stronger than my damn résumé, capisce? You said “space,” you said “trees and fire” But called her from that camp like a fucking liar That mug I gave? Cracked and done Not hate – just me, seeing shit for what it was You know what’s funny? You say you’ve been unsure all morning. Unsure if you should send me something. As if I’m still here, waiting for you to decide. You hope it "lands okay" But I already left the runway, babe. You write like you’re soft. Like you’re brave for pressing send. But you’re just trying to feel better About not being better When it actually mattered. I stayed. I stayed through the silence, the shifts, the versions of you I didn’t recognize. I answered your dry-ass texts like they were truth. They weren’t. They still aren’t. You said it’s “just a phase,” right But forgot to show your true side So I toast myself, cold wine in hand And that fake-ass “us” gets canned And yeah, I’m celebrating With Dubai chocolate and overpriced wine It’s sweet and sad – like this whole design Cheers. I’m fine. Happy, happy birthday to me You got your shows, I got receipts You dropped hearts like that meant a thing I looked down like, what even is this thing? Happy fucking birthday to me You chose silence, I chose honesty Mascara smudged but I’m elite Might buy myself something on credit – just for me No cake, no candles, no crowd Just me, and I’m saying it loud Yeah, I’m tired, but I’m upright Ain’t nobody killin’ this light Happy, happy birthday to me No gift from you – I’m finally free I might cry, but it’s designer tears So here’s to me – I’m the vibe in here Mascara, red wine, and Dubai chocolate tonight Cheers to me. Just me. Still me.

0/500