Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song So Sick Stories, artist - RATKING. Album song So It Goes, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 06.04.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: HXC, XL
Song language: English
So Sick Stories |
Now do you see this, The way the grey controls only |
The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve |
Are set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist |
Just another inner city bliss |
Now do you see this, The way the grey controls only |
The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve |
I set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist |
Just another inner city river bliss |
Uptown, soul of American century, no dispute |
Our foreign coup, Malcolm gets shoot, shot |
Harlem screaming, «How come it’s you, not?» |
Some other fucker at that audubon spot, got |
Houdini to seedy schemey, Junkies who would easily deceive me, believe me |
Monthly, must be, easy to fuck with Wik |
In my ear saying «Suck this dick 'fore I get sadistic» |
I’m in the corner, crying «What's this shit?» |
Seems I’m either puffing that bliss or cuffs on my wrist |
Yin and yang, either stinging with pain or bringing that grain |
Either way yo it’s all the same thang |
Thinking, Might it be worth it, life in the circle, write in my journal |
My journals the, city it flows with the prettiest prose |
Mixed with the gritty and gross, I pity the |
Hideous shmoe, not the idiot shmucks, still giving a fuck |
But I pity them so I guess I care too, prepared to |
I-I-I dare to, keep trying when dying |
The island be my heirloom |
Now do you see this, The way the grey controls only |
The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve |
Are set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist |
Just another inner city bliss |
Now do you see this, The way the grey controls only |
The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve |
I set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist |
Just another inner city river bliss |
Marred Muts, upstream harbored us |
Luck loop of lucky louie shufflin' suave struts |
Wrists carved up, from center street souls |
Whose scars won’t shut, no scars won’t shut! |
Back in kickball they were the kids that got cut |
Type to lick ya tears off, poke ya gut and such |
Now who’s stuck? |
And where’s my luck? |
Barged baxter in bayard boom, where’s my buck? |
You wouldn’t last long on Lennox, you scared to come up |
But you need to be as scared of the come up |
When you need to be shootin' shoats and saving the young pups |
Torrid heat, time square post let it erupt |
We’re bashing and barking like, dogs in the fog |
Down the South, slow draws, haggard hogs |
I can feel ya hunger baby, scribble and make ya starve |
Taught you 'bout tatted walls, scratched and scattered scrawls |
Night you like to breathe but you talk timid towards tamed with awe |
And tongues rip through holes with pockets to draws |
I was born in the ocean and adapted to life ashore |
Take it as a simple world, world, world |
Guess I’m spatting off like hell, now what the hell |
All the, all the, sick stories to tell |
Sittin' in ya cell thinkin' to yourself, «how'd I fail» |
Well, why’d I wail? |
Now do you see this, The way the grey controls only |
The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve |
Are set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist |
Just another inner city bliss |
Now do you see this, The way the grey controls only |
The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve |
I set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist |
Just another inner city river bliss |
Suave slobs, conquer, Manahatta |
Wally’s on my feet, Squallies on the creep 'cross the |
Street where the people that peep the nostalgia |
All dat karma can come upon ya |
Suave slobs, conquer, Manahatta |
Wally’s on my feet, Squallies on the creep 'cross the |
Street where the people that peep the nostalgia |
All dat karma can come upon ya |
Suave slobs, conquer, Manahatta |
Wally’s on my feet, Squallies on the creep 'cross the |
Street where the people that peep the nostalgia |
All dat karma can come upon ya |