Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Broken , by - Denace. Release date: 08.01.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
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 |