This is a song about "Press"

Press play. this shit is recorded

And get a hall pass for this class-act shit

I leave a hater like he lost a watermelon fight

So press your lips to mines, take my hands and hold them tight

Du press so i took breaths

I can taste the salt from my tears

Whenever things are blurring don't press the trigger

She got mad i leaned over, i'm nursing her

Here i go again, falling in love again

I've learned all press is good press when pursuing fame,

For everything i lost tell em i want it all back

I press him for decimals out the register tellin' him that

But i press on like a soldier, not god's, but my feat

This is what the devil plays before he goes to sleep

How many pistols smoking coming from a broken familyi'm sick of being tired

The pressure when i press up against your chest i'm the, phlegm that stresses, till necks hurt