Music: Conor Dickinson/Lola Young
You know I'm impatient
I get what you're saying
You hate the ****ing lot
You hate the ****ing lot
Hey, hey
It's taking you ages, you still don't get the hint
I'm not asking for pages but one text or two would be nice and
Please, don't pull those faces when I've been
Out working my ass off all day, it's just one bottle of wine or two
But hey, you can't even talk, you smoke weed just to help you sleep
Then why you out getting stoned at 4 o'clock? And then you come home to me
And don't say hello 'cause I got high again
And forgot to fold my clothes
I'm too messy, and then I'm too ****ing clean
You told me, "Get a job," then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect 'til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever, and then I'm too ****ing dumb
You hate it when I cry unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect 'til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you and you hate the ****ing lot
You hate the ****ing lot
Shut up for like once in your life
You hate the ****ing lot
You hate the ****ing lot
You hate the ****ing lot, oh
I'm too messy, and then I'm too ****ing clean
You told me, "Get a job," then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect 'til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever, and then I'm too ****ing dumb
You hate it when I cry unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect 'til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you and you hate the ****ing lot
You hate the ****ing lot
You hate the ****ing lot