Two bullets for the bitch

You aim your gaze over a glass of dry martini,
Your empathy is freezing somewhere in the ice of Antarctica.
A toxic flair of expensive perfume and cheap intrigues,
You're the type to write a script just to break into a scream.
Your manicure is sharper than your flat jokes,
To you, I’m just a taxi for a couple of hours and minutes.
Swipe right, swipe left, life like a Tinder catalog,
But you forgot, baby — we’re not in this thriller anymore.


Take off the crown, it’s pressing on your brain.
I burned this bridge. I burned this fucking bridge!

Припев
Two bullets! The first is a lie, the second is your plastic pathos.
Two bullets! You expected the finale, you expected my knockout.
A cover-girl bitch, colder inside than metal,
But I spit out these bullets! And didn't even limp!
(Yeah, I didn't even limp!)


You post quotes like you're a philosopher, not a vampire,
Your inner world is just an empty souvenir.
Manipulations, tears — cheap one-actor theater,
You wait for applause, but there isn't even a prompter in the hall.
I was a cardboard target, convenient to shoot at,
But the cardboard turned out to be Kevlar — shouldn't you know?
Now your shots are just firecrackers in the background,
Your number has long been on the blacklist on my phone.


Take off the crown, it’s pressing on your brain.
I burned this bridge. I burned this fucking bridge!

Припев
Two bullets! The first is a lie, the second is your plastic pathos.
Two bullets! You expected the finale, you expected my knockout.
A cover-girl bitch, colder inside than metal,
But I spit out these bullets! And didn't even limp!


You know... the funniest thing about this story,
Is that you still think you hit the mark.
Misfire, sweetheart. Misfire.



Припев
Two bullets! The first is a lie, the second is your plastic pathos.
Two bullets! You expected the finale, you expected my knockout.
A cover-girl bitch, colder inside than metal,
But I spit out these bullets! And didn't even limp!


Spit them out.
Free.
End of connection.