[Intro – low voice, bass creeping in] Yeah… Nobody asked for this one. So if this gets inappropriate… blame them. Radio can find the fucking clean button. [Verse 1] I caught that look, don’t act confused You knew exactly what you came here to do That little smile like “prove your nerve” Baby, careful asking for what you deserve I ain’t bringing flowers, ain’t playing sweet I’m bringing bad decisions over heavy beats Black beanie low, that grin says enough You wanted Angry Dad? Well, you woke him the fuck up. You can keep pretending you’re innocent But your eyes already signed consent No need talking this thing to death Come a little closer, save your breath [Pre-Chorus] Don’t tell me behave You didn’t press play for safe You wanted something with teeth tonight Alright. [Chorus] I wanna make you wish this song had hands Wish this bassline had a fucking chance Wish the voice coming through your headphones Could step right out and take you home Make you bite that lip when the beat drops low Make you wonder just how far I’d go Till you’re staring at the speaker thinking, “Fuck… why ain’t this bastard real?” Yeah— I wanna make you wish I was real. [Verse 2] I know that type, “I don’t get impressed” Five minutes later you’re fixing your dress Talking real brave from the other side While your whole damn body keeps ruining the lie I’m not promising breakfast, rings or forever Tonight we can keep this irresponsibly better No future plans, no relationship quiz Just your bad idea finding out what mine is You wanted smooth? Nah. I’ve got rough edges polished just enough To know exactly when to slow it down And exactly when you’ve had enough slow [Pre-Chorus] You can tell me “don’t” with that smile if you want But if you mean stop— I stop. Anything else? Baby… keep talking. [Chorus] I wanna make you wish this song had hands Wish this bassline had a fucking chance Wish the voice coming through your headphones Could step right out and take you home Make you bite that lip when the beat drops low Make you forget what you thought you know Till you’re staring at the speaker thinking, “Fuck… why ain’t this bastard real?” Yeah— I wanna make you wish I was real. [Post-Chorus – half sung / half spoken] Wish I was real Wish I was there Wish that dirty little voice Was breathing in your ear Turn it up Lock the door You asked Angry Dad for sexy— Should’ve thought about that before. [Verse 3 – cockier, beat stripped down] I’m not the pretty boy leaning on the bar I’m the one making confidence look dangerous in the dark No six-pack sales pitch, no rehearsed lines Just grown-man patience and questionable designs And I know— That sentence probably made you laugh Good. Keep laughing while I close that gap. You said you wanted the energy filthy Wanted something that didn’t feel friendly Something you play once, then play twice Then suddenly headphones feel like terrible advice [Bridge – beat almost disappears] “Do the Angry Dad version.” Okay. But don’t complain when the song looks back. Don’t blame me when three minutes in You’re imagining shit I never actually said. That’s your brain. I just gave it a soundtrack. [Beat slams back] [Final Chorus] I wanna make you wish this song had hands Wish this bassline was a real grown man Wish every word coming through those headphones Could leave the fucking speakers and take you home Make you bite that lip when the room goes dark Put that little bad idea right where thoughts start Till you’re staring at the speaker thinking, “Fuck… why ain’t this bastard real?” One more time— “Why ain’t this bastard real?” Yeah. That was the point. [Outro – spoken, amused] Next time you request a song, remember who the fuck you asked.
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