Song Title

B.o.B - Fucked Up Lyrics (feat. Playboy Tre)

B.o.B – Fucked Up Lyrics (feat. Playboy Tre)

[Intro:]
I’ve lost control
And I’ve lost my soul
I stand so cold
Cause I’ve lost control!

[Chorus:]
Is that’s why you think I’m cool,
Because I get fucked up, fucked up?
Is that’s why you think I’m cool,
Because I get fucked up, fucked up?
Is that why?
Is that why?
Is that’s why you think I’m cool,
Because I get fucked up, fucked up?

Way too fucked up obviously
But hey,that’s what just happens when the bottles are free
Prestige like an older man
I’m laid up in the sweet like solomon
You all just following.
I’m half way across the world, it just occurred to me
I look down, wallet full of foreign currency
Table full of shots, that’s courtesy
Broke niggers fake bowling, that’s perjury.
I do my thing certainly
One black, one Asian, diversity
I got a girl, she got a girl, we doing both concurrently
I wanna see ’em lips move, and I ain’t talking verbally!
I’m at the peak, man
I’m hon, kong high! you wanna see me falling, I don’t know why
I’m getting wasted at the Hong kong spot
And the room keeps spinning, but I don’t know why.

[Chorus:]
Is that’s why you think I’m cool,
Because I get fucked up, fucked up?
Is that’s why you think I’m cool,
Because I get fucked up, fucked up?
Is that’s why you think I’m cool,
Because I get fucked up, fucked up?
Is that’s why you think I’m cool,
Because I get fucked up, fucked up?

First class down my ass, don’t know how to act
Tell a broad with a big rack.. bring a shot of jet
I need a lot of that, i should wear a party hat
I can’t see you fuck boys,call it Cataracs
Hon-kong, nice girls, international speaking
Goose with the hen, call interracial drinking
Living life, stop soaring, make a part in
Hit a freak on one [?] call it captain Morgan
You all are hater, while we all lean
Getting hurt with the true fucking [?]
Baby take them clothes off, i need all skin
And don’t be stingy with that stuff, cause we all friends!
Tell me some freaking,
I kiss my home girl, we’re out of here Tre,boy in my own world!
Call it [?] over no fat Jesus
Your truly, Mr. pot belly, good evening!