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howdy satan - the real jd lyrics

so… jenny?

just jenny
yeah, i f—ed this guy on sat-rday and then again the next day
f—in’ on sunday is kinda like a threesome with god
it’s ok, i’m not g-y
that boy’s got some games that i don’t wanna play
anyway tell me why i’m here today
wouldn’t come alone, but what else can i say

so you’re tellin’ me that your boy ain’t comin?

nah
but i bet he is, just not here
bet he’s nut bustin just from traffic
you kids are wack, that’s a fact
may the lord guide you on the right path!

what the f–k.. dude cool it
you might be a father but you’re no daddy, don’t even bother

ok jenny just cut the profanity

like i give a f–k
my life’s insanity
not to be fixed by christianity
i worship humanity
that’s my vanity

i see
ok and what does this gotta do with me

we both know that you live life a sinner
you think god doesn’t see you trynna be thinner?

woah woah woah no i’m no beginner
all this hatred inside
just bring it to a simmer
i can’t adapt to this body
i am trapped
i guess it’s been too long
i just f-ckin snapped

can someone please tell me how i’m supposed to feel
when i’m sleepwalking through life and nothing seems real
every night i go to bed praying that i heal
that kind of hope is the kind that people steal

no appeal in dealin’ with the pain that never ends
fake friends bend my will just to make amends
i can’t pretend that i didn’t spend weekends
me and my friends drinkin’ way more than we’d intend

but the high fades and people always change
and of course i’m always sitting there feeling all betrayed
because you played me when you knew i was afraid of those boy charades just trynna get laid

four in the mornin’ outside the lecture hall
bawlin’ like a baby because i never sleep at all
i dare you to check your phone with seven missed calls
sometimes you gotta walk before you crawl

i hate school it makes me feel r-t-rded
shoulda just gone to school to be an artist
i can’t drop out now
i barely just started
stop askin’ questions now, i beg your pardon

in school to grow up and get a dead end job
so i can make that money that i’d much prefer to rob
join the mob
but probably become a rich suburban sn-b
with a white picket fence lining my perfect yard
that i don’t ever mow because in heels that’s too hard
i’m so f-cking lazy i’d rather swipe my credit card
another trophy wife for my husband to discard

see … it’s unfair
i wander through life looking for someone to care
until i eventually fall back into my own despair
i’ll nod out in a lawn chair just to run from this nightmare
ensnared in the cloak of all the affairs that i wear
i’m prepared to later be aware that i’ve still gone nowhere
i don’t need no rich b-tch millionaire fancy f-ck
with tiny silverware and closet of designer neckwear
mohair knitwear designers everywhere

… i really don’t care

- the real jd lyrics

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