(Intro: 0:00-0:20)
(Beat fades in with the lonely piano loop and 808.)
(Voice, tired, melodic)
Yeah...
Let me tell you 'bout my newest tenant...
(Verse 1)
You moved in with a suitcase and a story 'bout the rain.
Said you needed shelter, just a place to ease the pain.
First month was all gratitude, breakfast in my bed.
By the second month, the only thing you're feedin' me is dread.
You mastered all my hobbies, just to have somethin' to critique.
My favorite songs are "problematic," every other fuckin' week.
You want a therapist, a chef, a provider, and a friend.
But try to be a lover, and that partnership just ends.
You're a charity case runnin' a multi-level scam.
And I'm the mark who bought the plan.
(Chorus)
This is a notice to vacate my mind, my space, my life.
You ain't a girlfriend, you're a part-time, strategic wife.
The rent was my sanity, you're three weeks overdue.
So pack your manufactured trauma, I'm evictin' you.
(Yeah.)
(Verse 2)
I started keepin' receipts for every tear and every meal.
The "panic attacks" that always happened when the bill was real.
You'd talk for hours 'bout your boundaries, your sacred space.
While leavin' all your chaos smeared across my damn place.
You wanted all the comfort, the security, the nest.
But the idea of my touch just put your heart to rest.
So what's the transaction? What am I gettin' in this deal?
'Cause I'm payin' for a ghost to tell me nothin' that I feel is real.
(Chorus)
This is a notice to vacate my mind, my space, my life.
You ain't a girlfriend, you're a part-time, strategic wife.
The rent was my sanity, you're three weeks overdue.
So pack your manufactured trauma, I'm evictin' you.
(Fuck.)
(Bridge/Twist)
So here's the twist, baby, while you're packin' up your lies.
I knew your game before the "hello" left your eyes.
My buddy Jake, last year, he had you in his spot.
Same suitcase, same story 'bout the love that you forgot.
He sent me all the texts, the patterns, the play.
I didn't take you in to make you stay.
(Voice gets colder, rhythmic)
I let you move in... to write this goddamn song.
Your grift's the verse, my freedom is the hook where you belong.
Now get the fuck out.
(Outro)
(Beat simplifies to just the 808 bass hit, slowing down.)
(Sound of a door closing. Beat cuts.)
PrinceShawn
