Verse 1:
Loser.
I guess the shoe fits.
So I’m suited and booted just like the groomsmen.
Handful of berries and juices, prince of Zamunda.
If I like her, then maybe I should pursue her.
Put a ring on it before jumping to groom first.
I know why the caged bluebird singing like Future.
Cause he knows he might lose her.
If another man decides to choose her. (Damn)
I know ya’ll ain’t accustomed to me cussing, but f*** it
I done lost enough and I’m dusted and disgusted.
My money coming up shorter than (Demonte Boggs?) and a jump ball.
Try to make her stay or let her go, tough call.
It could literally go either way, latch harder.
I told her I’ll make it big one day, and be a pop star.
Clearly, that s*** was not in the cards.
Not playing with a full deck,
I should have stopped from the start, damn.
Chorus:
Loser. I’m losing it. (x 4)
Verse 2:
Bare minimum of 11 dollars I share 10 of em.
I know nowadays that’s a rare sentiment.
N****** is sick, they rather share chlamydia.
And I don’t relate, I feel like I’m from Area 51.
Alien from a distant sun.
Traveling and what I’m seeing got me unraveling.
Losing my hair, I had to shave it bald.
I need glasses when I drive just to save a soul.
I gotta stretch thoroughly before I play some ball.
Other than that, I guess I’m just the same Jamall.
A little older, a little wiser maybe.
Maybe not, who am I kidding I’m still like a baby.
I know that sounds oxymoronic like when night and day meet,
but that’s the very beauty of a life so crazy.
Maybe I’m jaded, or maybe this drink got me faded
like Kid N Play in the late 80s. I’m losing it.
Chorus:
Loser. (I’m a loser, baby.) I’m losing it.
Loser. (x3) (I’m a loser baby why don’t you…) I’m losing it.
Loser. (x3) (I’m a loser.) I’m losing it.
Loser. (x5) (I’m a loser baby why don’t you kill me?) I’m losing it.
I’m a loser baby why don’t you kill me? I’m a loser.

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