Drunk Dial - CunninLynguists, Murs, Grieves

Operator here’s my dime

Connect me please

I know that she’s at home

It’s four o-clock on a Sunday morning

Who the hell is calling my phone?

Waking me up I’m stretching and yawning

If you had any sense you’d leave me alone

Wee hours of the morning and word is bond

I’m in jail I need bail.

Again, the word is bond

Not James in a tux with olives draped on my cup

With a dame all on me with healthy letters to cup

So what up?

Can you free me 'fore my prints get back?

And they run em through the system and realize that I’m black

All I remember was the stripper then I faded to rack

Said her name was December than she sat on my lap

«Merry Crimmuh»

Liquor and higher power my witness

I thought fleeing The People was just a matter of fitness

With all these nice drinks, compliments of Dennis

Whoever the fuck that is

«Dennis is this!»

Two middle fingers up

«Dennis is this!»

Dennis tab maxed out on titties and fifths

Whoever the fuck Dennis is, Dennis is pissed!

Cus I don’t think that dude we was drinking with was Dennis at all, fam!

It’s four o-clock on a Sunday morning

Who the hell is calling my phone?

Waking me up I’m stretching and yawning

If you had any sense you’d leave me alone

Ha, Yup

I’m aware it’s four in the morning

But I just wanna tell you I’m drunk and I’m kinda horny

I know it gets annoying, but I been losing my grip

Every woman I talk to I treat like a therapist and it’s a bitch

Mainly cause I now consider you one

I wanna let you go, but every time I seem to screw up

Now that’s the problem with the space that you occupy

It’s going great and then the thought of you would cross my mind

A box of wine and a carton of coffin nails will

Convince me now would be a great time for hate mailin'

Like «Hey bitch!

How the hell have you been?

Remember me?

We were dating and you slept with my friends!»

I just thought that I’d remind you in case you ever forget it

And train yourself to believe that you’re not a terrible wretch

Ha

You broke my heart into like a million pieces

So here’s another dim-litted picture of my penis

Whoa!

What the fuck is going on Grieves

You saved my number under the wrong name in your phone?

Is that a picture of your???

I’ma pretend I didn’t see that

All that rain got you suicidal up in Seatt… ohhhhh

You had to much to drink again

Whiskey and a cellphone ain’t never gonna be your friend

You booze you lose, homie you been warned

You better off using your cellphone to watch porn

Grab some lotion &a napkin

Jack off then pass out

All these drunk texts’ll have you fucked off and ass out

I hope you black out before you do anymore damage

I checked your timeline, homie… why you Tweetin in Spanish?

I understand if this is what you gotta go through

But when you sober up I got some screenshots to show you

Grieves, bro trust me

And you gonna be hella happy that all of them texts didn’t go through

It’s four o-clock on a Sunday morning

Who the hell is calling my phone?

Waking me up I’m stretching and yawning

If you had any sense you’d leave me alone

Ooh!

Ahh!

That’s the angle

She’s gonna love that one