Crave Your Catastrophe

[Verse 1]
You the red stain on my front seat
Lip gloss on my cigarette, ash on your bare feet
Tattoo on your hip say "don’t ask"
But you grindin on my lap like a car crash
Meet me round back, blacked out pickup
Bible on the dash while you hike that skirt up
You say "we gone straight to hell"
I say, "baby, hit the gas, let it burn, can’t you tell?"
[Chorus]
I crave your catastrophe
Bruises, teeth, nails in me
Sweat drippin like blasphemy
Say my name like you mad at me (yeah)
I crave what’s killin me
Ride that sin, no sympathy
Shake, scream, scratch, bleed
I crave your catastrophe
[Verse 2]
Got your ring in your purse with the gum wrappers
You climb on my face like a new pastor
Tongue full of lies, thighs say "prove it"
Hand on your throat, feel your whole damn body lose it
Phone blowin up, you just toss it in the floorboard
Bite marks on my neck like a scoreboard
You whisper "I’m his good girl, baby"
Then you spit on my chest, look back, call me crazy
[Chorus]
[Bridge]
[low vocal register] Southern drawl in your dirty little prayer
Moan my name like you swear you don’t care
[whispered vocals] "This wrong, this wrong" on repeat
But your hips still preach on my seat
[growled vocals] Tell God stop watchin if He can’t look away
We saints on Sunday, but we sinners tonight, okay
Hands on your waist, you ride like revenge
If this where it ends, let it end, let it end—
[Chorus]

rap, Trap-metal rock hybrid with male vocals; downtuned chugs, squealing leads, and 808 sub weaving under live drums. Verses hit double-time with distorted, almost spoken drawl; hook explodes into screamed gang vocals and octave harmonies. Sparse, tense guitars in the bridge, then a final all-in wall of sound with layered ad-libs and feedback tails., metal, raw, rock