Ah-ooh, mm, mm-mm, mm-mm, mm-mm
Ah-ooh, mm, mm-mm, mm-mm
At a party on the Westside
Showed up quarter after midnight
Had like four too many Budlights
God, I know just what it feels like
When your knees, they feel weak and you
And you don't wanna speak, and the
And the days become weeks and the nights become life
When you feel like you're dying but it's mid-July and you're cold
I can not get up, but
Trust me I'm tryin' to
I'm making these messes, I'm tearin' these dresses
I'm slurrin' my s's, I know