| Oh my God, Ronny | 
| The devil hit my phone, he wanna talk | 
| But I'm not really up for conversations | 
| I can have my cake and eat it, too | 
| I just gotta make a reservation | 
| Chillin' in my head, but it's hot | 
| Flames everywhere, I see Satan | 
| Demons tryna run up in my spot a lot | 
| Really, really runnin' out of patience | 
| T— Timing, timing, timing | 
| All about timing, timing, timing | 
| Sit back in my chair, relaxing and reclining | 
| He has not a care in the world, no, I'm lying | 
| Takin' all these meds to the face got me flying | 
| Takin' all these meds to the face got me dying | 
| Smoke 'til my mind frying, eyes red, high and crying | 
| Numb the pain with Oxy and Dior, yeah, pricey | 
| Juice like 2Pac Shakur, no ice tea | 
| Givenchy, Louis V, Double V, icy | 
| Wedding ring, better things, better half, wifey | 
| Only things numbing me from this hard life thing, uh, alright | 
| The devil hit my phone, he wanna talk | 
| But I'm not really up for conversations | 
| I can have my cake and eat it, too | 
| I just gotta make a reservation | 
| Chillin' in my head, but it's hot | 
| Flames everywhere, I see Satan | 
| Demons tryna run up in my spot a lot | 
| Really, really runnin' out of patience | 
| I'm waiting, waiting, waiting, sittin' up | 
| Waiting, waiting, waiting, contemplating | 
| My heart racing | 
| Feels like I'ma die every second of the day | 
| So I gotta get high | 
| Ain't no coming down, ain't no coming down, why? | 
| My anxiety bring me down, that's the fucking downside | 
| It's like every time I ball, I just end up off-sides | 
| This light of mine goes dim tonight | 
| Will I be alright? | 
| Let me guess, no answer, right? | 
| The devil hit my phone, he wanna talk | 
| But I'm not really up for conversations | 
| I can have my cake and eat it, too | 
| I just gotta make a reservation | 
| Chillin' in my head, but it's hot | 
| Flames everywhere, I see Satan | 
| Demons tryna run up in my spot a lot | 
| Really, really runnin' out of patience |