Lyrics Broken - Denace

Broken

Yeah, there’s two kinds of people today
There’s happy people
And there’s people like me
You think you know me, please
You have no idea
You think my life is great
Shit, I cover up the tears
We don’t go back this time
For a place to call my own
For a place that I call home
We don’t go back this time
For a place to call my own
For a place that I call home
Where the fuck are you at Spence?
Pick up the phone
You haven’t called back since- I’m feeling alone
You got a girl now?
Forgetting your close friends?
Feeling hopeless, just so you know this
I’m 'bout to dose benzos through dead cold
Bent over the bed, no (ugh), nevermind that, bro
Tipsy over the edge, yo, my chest needs a less load
Depressed, not knowing what’s next, so
I keep smoking, I know soon I’ll have a heart attack
The last cancer stick, that crushed the camel’s back
And now I’m drinking and drivin', tears fillin' my eyes
I should crash under these Vanilla Skies
Concealing these feelings but it’s killing myself
You were always one of the few willing to help
But lately you don’t respond when I hit up your cell
My tank needs a fill-up stranded in the pits of this hell
We don’t go back this time
For a place to call my own
For a place that I call home
We don’t go back this time
For a place to call my own
For a place that I call home
Seven missed calls, please stop hittin' this cell
All this dude does is complain, it’s giving me hell
I know sometimes he’s trapped and he’s feeling in jail
But that don’t mean he gotta bring me to that prison as well
Oh, another call?
Now, I’m truly just pissed
Decline, decline, decline, you’re stupid as shit
We were supposed to be there for the fans, make music I think
But when we hang, all you do is just drink
You got me chain smoking as I ruin my health
Want to give up on music, not even do it myself
Sick of leading this life, best friend’s seein' a dead end
To get a piece of the pie, the key is bein' a legend
But all he sees is depression so I’m guessing it’s over
If you admire Em' so much, then why ain’t you gettin' sober?
It’s time to clean out the closet and act like a soldier
Fuck it, whatever, I’m comin' over
We don’t go back this time
For a place to call my own
For a place that I call home
We don’t go back this time
For a place to call my own
For a place that I call home
Spencer!
(phone dialing) Dammit!
(ringing) Pick up the phone man!
C’mon please, (pill bottles shaking in the background) pick up the phone,
please pick up the phone (phone continues to ring)
I can’t take this shit no more man, please
Yo, just answer this one time, bro (answering machine picks up)
FUCK!
Can’t take this shit no more (Beeeeep!)
Really?
Another voicemail you sent me to
I guess this is my goodbye, I’ma end it too
I can’t stop thinkin' about the bitter truth
I hate this rap shit now, Spence, it’s pitiful
I quit it through, finished, done, I’m miserable
Reached my wits end, fuck the world, diggin' through
Cause no one appreciates the time I’ve thrown in this
I’m getting too old for rejection so I blow a kiss
Eminem, Slim Shady, Marshall Mathers
You bit his style, his life, mimic his mannerisms
I don’t think you understand your physics
Can this get a hold of you and your image
I’m so sick and tired of being judged
Being such a great rapper is depleting love
And I don’t have the passion or even feel the rush
To write a song for the world so I’m giving up
We don’t go back this time
For a place to call my own
For a place that I call home
We don’t go back this time
For a place to call my own
For a place that I call home