Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 5 Days, artist - Kyle Lucas. Album song Marietta, Georgia: The Album, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.09.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Kyle Lucas
Song language: English
5 Days |
They say at night that’s when things come alive |
And when things come alive |
I was high for like 3 days, came down for 2 |
5 day’s wasted, wasted |
I was high for like 3 days, came down for 2 |
5 day’s wasted trying to escape from you |
I’m having a hard time balancing this music shit |
Constantly on tour still going to school and shit |
Get my degree, the fuck I’m going to do with it |
Get a real job, I feel like a lunatic |
I’m starting to get a buzz, shawty I ain’t new to this |
Assuming if I walked away now man I would ruin it |
Hard to say sober, I’m always in the room with it |
All these different drugs and then everybody’s doing it |
Okay fuck it, chop a line i guess it now i’m cool with it |
Bitches getting higher then the moon and shit, lune eclipse |
Start to see some stars, Zanny bars that got me loosing it |
And everybody out here getting hammered man, that’s too legit |
Too legit, cool as shit |
All this drug talk that’s the language that I’m fluent in |
All this fluid got me zooming like I flew on in |
Feeling like i’m dying while i write my own eulogy |
Constantly surrounded by these dealers and fiends |
Who disguised as rich guys rocking dockers with a crease |
If you look in they Mercedes they got 80 OC’s |
That’s 80 mg’s, so that’s 80 bucks each |
A dollar a milligram, you think that’s a reach? |
But it’s supply and demand, you fighting a disease cause |
You’ll pay anything to stop from all the scratching |
All the shaking, all sweating, before you know shit you an addict |
Reporting to you live |
I’m from the city where the drugs are so potent it’s just more then getting high |
I mean, not the first but maybe the second time |
It’s like either going to be hooked for life, or you gonna die |
Talk about the past makes it easier to laugh |
It’s easier to judge you don’t even know the half |
You don’t even know the feeling depleting your whole stash |
Walk a mile in my shoes stop you dead in your tracks |
My addictive personality, it laughed at free will |
I never stood a chance, all the E pills |
All the weed, all syrup that’s on refill |
Girls in the stalls sniffing blow off of keys still |
Coming down, my high it needs to re-build |
Hearts racing, I’m telling it to be still |
While my body is yelling 'just like please chill' |
Painkillers took, no pain got killed |
So no wonder i ain’t been to bed sober in like 10 years |
Every single night I’m watching dreams turn to nightmares |
I’m seeing ghosts, friends who overdosed |
And a couple even killed themselves are hanging from a rope |
And some who disappeared, that probably hurts most |
It’s been like 2 years, since me and Kahle spoke |
But he don’t see my pain, guess he don’t feel the same |
He took 20 years of friendship and threw it down the drain (fuck him) |
So much for being brothers |
So much for spending every holiday up at my house up with my father and mother |
Shit I considered you family and that’s rare don’t even bother |
Ain’t no coming back from that because I can’t do shit for ya |
This whole industry turned they back on me |
Middle finger to your label and your faculty |
Oh ya you listen to these rappers, actually |
Well go and tell them all to back it up cause you don’t want this rap beef |
Just when you thought that i had enough |
I’m back on deck like batters up |
Me and my team we mad as fuck |
Couple things ain’t adding up |
Like who the fuck are these new dudes? |
And God dammit they rapping sucks |
Listen to they tracks, I just wish they dad wrapped it up |
Now we stuck |
The publics so subjected to these fake ass emcees can’t even form a sentence |
This ain’t happen over night, blood, sweat and tears |
Money can’t buy skills, ask Rich Hil |
Constantly aware, constantly compared |
To these rappers who ain’t shit, constipated all year |
But they ain’t in my vicinity |
Fraction of my talent, they ain’t even a tenth of me |
I’m killing every beat sent to me |
Meanwhile they kissing on my ass, Human Centipede |
I don’t need a yes man, I had friends |
But when shit hit the fan they found exit plans |
So i’m like fuck it life alters |
Out here by myself, I’m a lone survivor like Mark Wahlberg |
You gonna need Mossberg to try to halt this monster |
I ain’t gone stop till i’m on everybody’s poster |
All up on your girls wall, all up on her shoulders |
You just gone be picking up my scraps like a vulture |
And i don’t fuck with any new emcees |
Unless you, Sugar Tongue, Marc Goone or G Eaze |
The rest don’t even box me in can’t even hold a candle |
I don’t see them like they wearing fucking camo |
Like I’m Rambo when he ran out of ammo |
I’m just a rabid animal in the corner I’m off the handle |
Now if you don’t like the show you can change the fucking channel |
While this handle of Jack Daniels the reason you get handled |
It’s misleading, you think i’m going to be leaving |
But me and this beat beefing, i beat it for no reason |
Grab the fucking kick drum, beat it till it’s bleeding |
High jack, the hi hat, silence all the screaming |
Sort of Silence of the Lambs, mixed with Son of Sam |
And we mixed up with some misfits, we bringing all this mischief |
I was bumping Dip Set, you were bumping dip shits |
You listen to rappers who be rapping on some bitch shit |
Nothing authentic about you |
I’ma start naming names come Round 2 |