
Instagram Song 1 (Mr. Perfect) Chance the Rapper
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Instagram Song 1 (Mr. Perfect)" от Chance the Rapper. Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

Lyrics from Snippet
[Verse]
I can't believe you thought that I was Mr. Perfect
I can't believe you thought that I was even worth it
I swear I look at you sometimes and I get nervous
Conspiracy theories wrapped around your kisses like Hershey's
Our story's so choreographed, it feels like you rehearsed it
I admit I threw my hat in the ring, I'm Michael Jackson
But I figured that your reaction would be allergic
I shot my shot thinkin' before they hang up my number
They'll probably burn my jersey
Call up the pastor clergy
Call up the plastic surgeon
Call 'em the brand new version
Call me whatever you want, just call me back like it's urgent
I learned the art of forgiveness from the son of a virgin
I made so many clean slates that I could sell you detergent
I'm from a city full of finesses and janky merchants
Fragrance in pagan churches
Debt collectors that settle vendetta better in person
I wasn't born last week, yesterday I was nursing
I can't believe that you thought that I was perfect
My hidden blisters turn to pimples on the surface
I should've known from the beginning I was nervous
You pulled the wool over my eyes just like my sherpa
[Verse]
I can't believe you thought that I was Mr. Perfect
I can't believe you thought that I was even worth it
I swear I look at you sometimes and I get nervous
Conspiracy theories wrapped around your kisses like Hershey's
Our story's so choreographed, it feels like you rehearsed it
I admit I threw my hat in the ring, I'm Michael Jackson
But I figured that your reaction would be allergic
I shot my shot thinkin' before they hang up my number
They'll probably burn my jersey
Call up the pastor clergy
Call up the plastic surgeon
Call 'em the brand new version
Call me whatever you want, just call me back like it's urgent
I learned the art of forgiveness from the son of a virgin
I made so many clean slates that I could sell you detergent
I'm from a city full of finesses and janky merchants
Fragrance in pagan churches
Debt collectors that settle vendetta better in person
I wasn't born last week, yesterday I was nursing
I can't believe that you thought that I was perfect
My hidden blisters turn to pimples on the surface
I should've known from the beginning I was nervous
You pulled the wool over my eyes just like my sherpa
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