Christmas alone, in a hotel
The same stories that the hoes tell
I feel you, yeah I know braille
Feelin Like an inmate with no mail
Feelin' like a bad bitch with no nails
Like a pusher with no scale
My heart cold and my skin pale Dropped out of college, but I didn't Yale
These days I'm so lost
Some days I feel Ross
The cost of living got me dying Can somebody call Red Cross
Christmas alone, in a hotel The same stories that the hoes tell
Moonwalkin' on these eggshells Buying time, tryna self-heal
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah