The Ex-Ex

Song: The Ex-Ex

Album: Toussaint Morrison Is Not My Boyfriend

Artist: Toussaint Morrison

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released August 21, 2012

ref: http://toussaintmorrison.bandcamp.com/track/the-ex-ex

I can see the sun settin’ low to a dark dim glow on the ghost town in your eyes

And what you’re about to say, I can already hear- it’s no surprise

You say it over and over and over and over and over and over again

That you’re gonna take the wheel and steer this thing to a disconnect

Well, let me fill you in on somethin’ baby- I ain’t the one to come runnin’ back

And dial ya drunk- matter fact if a break’s what ya want, we gon’ throw a celebration beyond the word

With friends, liquor and all these girls at a house party bigger than the end of the world

Of the world, of the world- ya act like it’s the end of the….

I been cold since the get go

Swingin’ low from thin ropes it’s simple and sinful

The list goes far as the wind blows

Long as you can separate emotion from the slit throat

I can, and that’s why I do it

Never take it personal or think to get it convoluted

I’m used to women goin’ show-and-tell until the rumor mill

Is thinkin’ that they know me better than I know myself

Waaaoooooowwww, holy hell

Somehow before we met, you already knew me well

So please, go ahead, tell me all about me

Actually did you hear about what happened last week?

I was high outta my mind at Get Cryphy

Wearin’ a t-shirt that said “Kill Whitey”

Laughin’, drunk smilin’, babblin’, bar-fightin’

Any mother fucker I happened to dislikin’

Freestylin’ while dancin’ to Grease Lightnin’

Braggin’ about the next bike heist and

How I’m gonna pull it off and steal if from

The front porch of an ex-girlfriend I happened to cheat on

(Well, that’d be all of them, I mean that’s what I heard.

Toussaint’s an asshole, he makes fun of the burbs

And everyone from’em- it’s like he has a vendetta

With the entire fucking world- I’m like whatever

Get over it, he’s nobody, he’s not even signed

Heard he spends all day in a coffee shop and writes

Socially awkward, takes walks at night

Couldn’t keep a day job to save his fucking life

Talks about race and shit when he raps

Helloooooo, I think he’s fucking half-black

He give Minneapolis a bad name

Fuck him, his DJ and his fucking mixtape

And that fucking piece of shit band The Blend)

But what about you? You think I’d give one side without the other?

What about your closet- the zombies alcoholics and monsters

A laundry list full of daddy-issues, a self-esteem gone south

Unlike you, I’m not goin’ off what someone else said, I’m goin’ off what I heard from your mouth

I can see the sun risin’ as the texts roll in one after one

You say it over and over and over and over and over you wanna fix what’s broken

But we’re already on our way to the party with the next girl

And when ya get an invitation, don’t act like it’s- don’t act like it’s the end of the…