Song Cover Image

Top-Shelf Chaos

V4.5+

you said we had it all—nah, we barely had a spark you called it perfect love, but you were smokin’ in the dark you played forever, baby, but your script was off-beat tryna roll me in your papers, but you burned the whole sheet you wanted lovers, but you ghosted yourself you be shelf-talkin’ lies while i lit somethin’ else i don’t chase no smoke, i don’t re-light regret i’m the top-shelf kush, you the ashtray mess poured me down like some cheap-ass tequila burn on your lips, green smoke conceal ya lime on the rim with the salt of your sweat baby, i’m the high you can’t afford to forget all my thoughts cocked back like a bong full of fire loaded with the truth, every puff gets you higher you said i was your only—nah, that’s dead pressed you just ghosted in the haze, baby, basic at best i’m the liquor in the veins, i’m the weed in your lungs i’m the chaos in the kiss, i’m the twist on your tongue hit slow, boy, you choke on the taste of my past but i’m aged in the smoke, you was never built to last poured me down like some cheap-ass tequila burn on your lips, green smoke conceal ya lime on the rim with the salt of your sweat baby, i’m the high you can’t afford to forget roll it tight… lick it slow… hit me raw, let the spirits flow… top shelf only, baby. weed and tequila. said you’d give me everything—but your stash was bone dry you were sippin’ other bottles while i sparked in the sky you called it honesty? nah, delulu at best cuz you lied to yourself every time we undressed so i spit it like venom in a late-night sesh i’m the slutcore sermon, smoke and liquor mesh and the bottle’s drained out, blunt’s down to a roach you drank me cheap, baby—i’m a goddess, top-shelf approach poured me down like some cheap-ass tequila burn on your lips, green smoke conceal ya lime on the rim with the salt of your sweat baby, i’m the high you can’t afford to forget weed and tequila… nah, that ain’t free i’m the top-shelf sinner, double shot, OD you’ll be beggin’ for a hit when your lungs run dry but my body, my smoke, my chaos—prime supply