I hate my day job Version 6.9

Oh yeah, oh yeah She said I hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down to match my ceiling I don't have none (have none), dollar billies One time (oh, west side) She said I hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down to match my ceiling I don't have none, have none, dollar billies in my bag one Bag one, fuck your feelings, I detach them Wonder why I had them With her bad lungs, runnin' back to 'em Keep coming back if I hadn't known, aren't you tired of 'em? I don't understand why, it's probably just a habit She run until the cash come, wonder what happened Busy on the inside, why I got the hands up Ride got ends, ride don't got ends So go with your friends, well, then this sucks (yeah, yeah) She said I hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down to match my ceiling I don't have none, have none, dollar billies in my bag one Bag one, fuck your feelings, I de- Pilot, I've gone high, parachute, this my first If we land in quicksand, tell em' two, I might die Body bags, prolly glad, had that price on my head Took her hand, in July, couple months, fall again Hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down, like my ceiling I don't have none, have none Yeah, yeah She said I hate my day job, I don't feel it I need racecar, top down to match my ceiling I don't have none, have none, dollar billies in my bag one Bag one, fuck your feelings, I de- Oh, west side Oh, west side Oh, west side**