[Chorus (Extended): Trials]
Oh, wake up time to work
You're like "No! Fuck that, fire me first"
For all the headaches, debt, stress, problems
Whatever in the bottom of the bottle solves 'em
Oh, wake up time to work
You're like "No! Fuck that, fire me first"
For all the headaches, debt, stress, problems
Whatever in the bottom of the bottle solves 'em
Oh, you're thinking 'bout giving it up
You're like no, it's the hangover, it's the hangover
It's the hangover "Every [?]—
Every [?] the hangover and the headache seem harder"

[Verse 1: Trials]
(Check
One, two, uh, yo)
Yo, my head hurts from a nine to five desk clerk
Who's super drunk in a technicoloured sweatshirt
Last night's dinner, my liver love liquor
Like a big tipper, like a stripper, like a stick figure
(Oh) Fuck a rehab, I'd only relapse
I don't need jack shit, I only need Jack's
Spilling my drink like Hansel Gretel breadcrumbs
Find my way back to the bar when I'm dead drunk
Pop the lid off a bottle of sud
Like a thief in the night, pop the lock off a truck
Me and Don are in the city, coppers locking us up
Don't know what to do like, keep blowing off like were junk
And, just like that, what was once a night cap
Turned into the last scene of Empire Strikes Back
Head in the clouds, while you were settling down
I was out settling debts in a cold sweat feeling like