| Fuck, this is a trip
|
| A heartfelt piece
|
| I got a little bad but the motivation is there
|
| If you go and skip it and you feel it on another day
|
| But I know this too
|
| What I recommend volume 2
|
| I go out and slam the door
|
| I miss her mother she noticed
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| That I'm running away so much I've already done it once
|
| And I'm thinking trust has been dead for a long time
|
| And as much as it burns, perhaps it is better if I tear off my aorta
|
| The sun on the cap
|
| And I walk with the tank top
|
| While anxieties alone fight the struggle
|
| I'm not one of those who rap because he wants a breakthrough
|
| Since the beauty of experiencing this heat has melted it
|
| Love doesn't exist, it's just extreme endurance
|
| A succession of glances with a lump in the throat at dinner
|
| Until the tears become the emblem
|
| Of a relationship that was conceived as a problem
|
| And then you die inside like a flower at minus thirty
|
| You understand that the path of pain is really slow
|
| That's for every key that doesn't fit
|
| In the lock it will be like violent torture
|
| And I often think of
|
| What the earth would be like
|
| Without love and all the low blows that it strikes
|
| Without love there is no hate, without hate there is no war
|
| Think about how much love is shit
|
| It is better not to believe a word
|
| And carry truth and not nuggets in that wheelbarrow
|
| We are not left with a single freedom
|
| Meanwhile, the sky above is turning purple
|
| So I throw out what I have and what I say
|
| I turn another one and take the vodka out of the fridge
|
| I realized how much it costs and I understand
|
| That if today it's me, tomorrow it's up to a friend
|
| The anger is too strong to censor
|
| And death always wins if you make a percentage
|
| If so, a message on your cell phone is enough
|
| To get me panicked
|
| And don't let me recharge
|
| And so I think about you who haven't seen you in a long time
|
| And don't you know that now I express my thoughts by singing
|
| It's almost August and it's hot inside this cemetery
|
| And the good times I'm not really saving them
|
| I'm really jumping and it doesn't seem real to me
|
| I'm really sailing towards that black sea
|
| What remains for me only to shout to the sky
|
| To what god or whoever for him is screwing up the whole planet
|
| And all the rhymes in the world are not enough
|
| To pay all the bills
|
| That if I think of every tiger I face
|
| While lazy people are born and have it ready
|
| Spitting it out raw is already a lot
|
| But it doesn't fill that void
|
| I hit myself
|
| I book a place in hell
|
| Because I struggle with the unknown
|
| My future runs on a dark day in the wrong direction without a motorcycle helmet
|
| So the joke is that hearing this stuff helps you
|
| But since after the recco she no longer helps me brother
|
| So I always do more because I never want you to feel like me
|
| So the joke is that hearing this stuff helps you
|
| But since after the recco she no longer helps me brother
|
| So I always do more because I never want you to feel like me
|
| (yeah!) |