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1.
Well well well well Exactly what I said would happen happened and it so happens you're not happy now Well well well well What you said you wanted wasn't what you wanted Wow, what a shocker How could you be so naive? How could you be so naive? You do what you want Now you get what you got How could you be so naive? Well well well well Now that you have nothing you want something from me Fucking classic, spit it out Well well well Now that I don't need you, you're so see-through Yeah, I see you How you used me Like you're using me now You're so naive How could you be so naive? You do what you want Now you get what you got How could you be so naive?
2.
News flash: no one gives a shit that you're artistic Blue hair doesn't make you interesting Yeah, you don't impress me Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up You're not a fucking poet You're not a fucking poet I don't wanna hear your standup comedy Or your political philosophy I'm tryna get fucked up and turn my brain off so get on board or get lost Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up You're not a fucking poet You're not a fucking poet You're not a fucking poet You're not a fucking poet Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up You're not a fucking poet
3.
Baby you look so good in this light Let's order tacos and stay up all night Blow off your boyfriend, come back to mine I'm on my knees like Baby, baby, fuck with me I love myself actually So fuck your fuckboy boyfriend, fuck with me C'mon baby fuck with me Let's go to Vegas, I'll make you my life We'll cuddle naked and talk about life You know I fuck with horoscopes, what's your sign Holy shit, that's the same as mine Baby, baby, fuck with me I love myself actually So fuck your fuckboy boyfriend, fuck with me C'mon baby fuck with me Aight, lemme break it down for you baby Your boyfriend, he's a fucking fuckboy Fuck with me Baby, baby, fuck with me I love myself actually So fuck your fuckboy boyfriend, fuck with me C'mon baby fuck with me

about

This band is just one dude, the drums are fake, my thighs are fat, the world is ending, just fucking murder me

this dank ass album art brought to you by the one and only TRUMAN BOYES.

credits

released March 14, 2017

Written, Performed, Produced, Mixed, and Mastered by Ben Lapidus ©

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KILL YOUR FRIENDS New York, New York

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