Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Vice Grip, artist - Grieves. Album song Together/Apart, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.06.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
Vice Grip |
Look at what the cat dragged in, still breathing last night’s air |
Hand shaking cause the vice never fights fair |
And you’re relating cause you struggle with the same shit |
And wrote the threat of addiction off with the same sip |
Drowning, holding on to anything and everything around me |
Staring down the barrel of a browning |
Scowering, looking for any chance that allows me |
To sip another bad taste down and devour it whole |
Young bright and bold with a bottle for a friend and a heart full of holes |
No diamond in a stocking full of coal |
Never listen to the world when it told me I should slow my roll |
It’s abusive, but never hands on a women |
Choked a couple bottle necks and pounced when I shouldn’t |
If the proof is in the pudding I done ate it all up |
Instead of savoring the taste I love |
I’m on that shit again and I don’t wanna come back down |
I hold my broken crown in pieces |
Pour my last shot to the ground |
You’re on that shit again, trying to overload my mound |
You always chase me round in circles till I’m forced to hit the clouds |
I won’t come down |
What’s your meaning of high, huh? |
Getting lifted on a smoke cloud |
Moderately poisoning yourself until you zone out? |
Stick the dragon in your veins, sniffing Adderall and Cain |
Tilt another Styrofoam cup to your mouth |
Me? |
I got my own way to get up |
Starts with a rocks glass and ends with a hiccup |
And all the while I’ve been camouflaging my symptoms |
Like I don’t do the harder drugs cause I slip up |
Slip up — yeah that kid slipped up |
Rehabilitated twice and skipped straight to the pub |
I got my pops freaking out about his son |
And I’m juggling the stress of an artist by getting drunk |
No difference |
I escape like the rest of them, no thought, no faith like the rest of them |
I’ve been focusing and fighting so hard |
That I deserve a little bit of R&R, right? |
I’m on that shit again and I don’t wanna come back down |
I hold my broken crown in pieces |
Pour my last shot to the ground |
You’re on that shit again, trying to overload my mound |
You always chase me round in circles till I’m forced to hit the clouds |
I won’t come down |
I never claimed to be a saint, shit |
I built a life off of mishaps |
And cheers proudly to my flaws with a chipped glass |
The sick fact is I’m happy when I’m shit-canned |
At least a little bit, I smile like a lit candle |
But I’m aware that I’m just blinded by the blanket of it |
And stress doesn’t get relinquished just by drinking something |
And I don’t know if I’m addicted to the feeling or the fact |
That I can make a little exit without thinking of it |
Hell, I guess I’m showing all the signs huh? |
And redirecting to where alcohol defines fun |
And I’ll admit that I’ve been known to have a good time |
But promised that I’d never cross the line |
But never learned to draw it, call it, write it with a goal |
Make it so the night train never gets to go |
I’m as vulnerable as any of you other Joe Shmoe’s |
And got a couple little vices of my own |
I’m on that shit again and I don’t wanna come back down |
I hold my broken crown in pieces |
Pour my last shot to the ground |
You’re on that shit again, trying to overload my mound |
You always chase me round in circles till I’m forced to hit the clouds |
I won’t come down |