(an examination of) yu?

[Verse 1: L.A. VanGogh]
Why every time I ask for you to come and kick it you be all up in your phone like a nigga don't exist
You could've done that the crib
Plus you talk a lot of nothing, you be bluffing
All that's coming from your lips is
"I got bitches, I got bitches
Man this girl liked like 3 or 4 or my pictures
Man she all up on my dick I bet I get her"
I said "how you figure?"
My hami, hami, do you need a glass of water, ha?
You talking like you bout to meet her at the altar, ha?
If you get the digits bet that you don't call her, ha?
Probably text. and sex? that's far-fetched
He said "why you hating? You just mad cause you ain't got no bitches?
I surely don't I got women, plus I'm too bout my business
So you can worry 'bout the honey, I'll be headed to the money
That be why you always stressed and I'm never tripping

[Hook: L.A. VanGogh]
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
(AW NAW)
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
(OH NOW, AW NAW)
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
(AW NAW, AW NAWWWW)
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
Tell em hop, skip, jump off your dick
Validate yourself with the likes on your pics
Lost in translation through the words of a twit
And it just makes me sick, shit

[Verse 2: L.A. VanGogh]
There was a time when I was sitting on the couch
And my girl had cursed me out because I liked a shorty's pics
She commented bout how she had liked my shit
And my girl interrogating me like "who the fuck is this?"
"Girl you acting like you caught me red handed
Banging on the bathroom floor
I think you take all these emojis too serious
And frankly, I can't take no more (bullshit)"
"Look if I'm with you then I'm with you can't you let it be?
See, insecurity's a beast that you ain't letting sleep
Why you screenshotting shots from last week
How you swimming in your feelings when it ain't that deep?"

[Hook: L.A. VanGogh]
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
(Why, oh, why, oh, why, oh?)
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
(Why, oh, why, oh, why, oh?)
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
(Why, oh, why, oh, why, oh?)
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
Tell em hop, skip, jump off your dick
Validate yourself with the likes on your pics
Lost in translation through the words of a twit
And it just makes me sick, shit

[Verse 3: L.A. VanGogh]
I unfollowed a follower, I'm a leader
I promise I didn't need him
It only took him minutes to notice I had delete him
So he had started tweaking
Then I caught him subtweeting but I found it quite facetious
First of all, you such a media kind
You could've said straight to me if something stuck on your mind
You got my number you can call or text me up anytime
Instead of fighting for attention venting on timelines, my nigga

[Hook: L.A. VanGogh & Manasseh)
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?
Why you worried bout the wrong thangs?

[Bridge: L.A. VanGogh]
It's just Twitter my nigga, it's just Twitter
It's just insta my sister, it's just insta
It's Twitter my nigga, it's just Twitter
The fact that you worried bout it only works against ya

Verse 4
Now I can't front like I ain't been through them phases
A facade in them photos rearranging my faces
But I done learned all my lessons so we no longer adjacent
I'm seeing you through it now that's the cause of my statements
I seen you posted pictures of a whistle on your insta
Stop fronting I've known you since we was both little
Gang activity in our community had dwindled
And you a cool cat but you ain't grow up in that litter
You go broke tryna impress other guys
Not only that, but they watching with them jealousy eyes
Become the object of a stain, you're setting up your demise
Watch with whom you ride, they could Lowkey be spies
Why you babysitting your potential?
Why you waiting? Why you waiting on something to hit you?
Don't you know that you should get it 'fore they get you
When they get you they'll be operating rather sinful
It could all be so simple

But you worried bout the wrong thangs
But you worried bout the wrong thangs
But you worried bout the wrong thangs

[Outro: L.A. VanGogh]
It could all be so simple
But you'd rather make it hard
See no one loves you more than me
And no one ever will
Oh, ah
Oh, ahhhh