3.2 Red Dog

(one of those nights warm beer, cold women I just don't fit in) It goes 1, it goes 2, it goes 3-2 red dog in the hoodie too much "person" in your "ality", the friction could be Should we continue with dialogue as I study these new faces I would fix my shoe laces, but the room place was Shoes cut loose at the front door, got dirty socks, I'm on the floor and thoughts is what I hunt for Driftin in and out of conversations I know nothing about f**k your topics, I didn't come to see you But yo I'm here, might as well make the worst of this warm shitty beer and I'm nursin it, and cursin it I'm sick of it, but still grippin it and sippin it Hopin it'll dull the pain of the sight of your lips flippin' shit So here I sit, inside my atmosphere I don't know a single motherf**ker here, but maybe that's my fear Pull out my notebook and let go Intro-spectro cep, Not so pleased to meet you, and I hate techno I only came to see the girl that lives here, TW #11, cold women warm beer (x2)