A couple bitches numbers
They won't stop calling me
They probably think I'm balling
They probably think I'm balling
All these different numbers
They won't stop calling me
I know that they want something
I know that they want something from me
She want some apples and almond butter, I'll give it to her
She got what she wanted and it was what she deserved
I take her to dinner and bring her home for dessert
In picture she's perfect, even better in person
I swear to God, I'll get under her surface
She's feeling my nerves, I think I'm making her nervous
I swear to God, she might be perfect
Yeah, she could be perfect
The last one is a memory
The other one's my enemy
I don't why she still calls
I don't know why she messaged me
A couple bitches numbers
They won't stop calling me
They probably think I'm balling
They probably think I'm balling
All these different numbers
They won't stop calling me
I know that they want something
I know that they want something from me
I hate to make assumptions, but I know you want something
Like tickets for your cousin or this up in your stomach from me
If you said it, I read it, you saw it, I can't deny
It's too many messages, I don't want to reply, yeah
And it's been a minute and you're just trying to say, "Hi"
But I don't have time, you know my schedule's tight
I swear to God, I'm going out of my mind
I'm just trying to survive, I'm running low on supply
I swear to God, you're lowing my high
But I can't say I'm surprise
I pray to God...
The last one is a memory
The other one's my enemy
I don't know why she still calls
I don't know why she messaged me
All these bitches numbers
They won't stop calling me
I know they think I'm balling
They probably think I'm balling
Writer(s): Jeremy Freedman, Brandon Fried, Michael Margott, Jesse Rutherford, Zach Abels, Lars Stalfors
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