all my friends are venmo - mo troper lyrics
a sad b*st*rd sits alone, scrolling through his menchies
occupying the plane known as white male mediocrity
table for one at the taco bell on wilshire
wishing to god i could put all these pennies in a tip jar
i’ve had it up to here so i’m saying f*ck the fans
(what fans? what fans?)
i just got this email from my publicist i can barely understand
(we stan, we stan)
all my friends tell me they’re migrating to venmo
“it’s the next facebook,” they say, “or at least the next ello”
another year attached to the capitalist human centipede
when live shows come back you can catch me standing in the green room, awkwardly
i’ve had it up to here so i’m saying f*ck the fans
(what fans? what fans?)
i just got this email from my publicist i can barely understand
(we stan, we stan)
picture perfect scenery
milk duds make up the gaps in your t**th
the air in the trees is dollar store fabreeze
nothing, nothing means nothing to me
i’ve had it up to here so i’m saying f*ck the fans
i just got an email from my manager i can’t quite understand
picture perfect scenery
milk duds make up the gaps in your t**th
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