Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shitted On, artist - Soul Khan. Date of issue: 15.11.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Shitted On |
| I was beyond aching to the break of dawn taking |
| Pictures in my mind of the way she got quaking |
| Limbs to settle with them heavenly palms gracing |
| Arms that’d be reaching for the shape of her escaping |
| I wonder where it went, you know that good old sensation |
| That had our bodies fastened, now it’s got me asking |
| Was it just a smokescreen from the very opening |
| Of this close thing that fell apart into loathing? |
| But if it was sincere, then tell me |
| Nah, nah, if it was sincere, then really |
| How’d the hell we |
| End up like this? |
| You living easy, but me I’m looking lifeless |
| When people see me, they’re calling you a trife bitch |
| They don’t understand, well neither did I |
| Too bad the pills didn’t keep you from breeding them lies |
| When I was deep in them thighs |
| Infatuation turned to anxious waiting for you to give me another reason to cry |
| I feel shitted on |
| With my hands on my head |
| And my chest still beating though you left me for dead |
| I feel shitted on |
| Was I the man of your dreams |
| Or just a meaningless piece of your plans and your schemes? |
| I feel shitted on |
| You know i’d treat you like a goddess |
| Gave you everything but you could never keep a promise |
| Shitted on |
| My house’ll never be your home |
| If you’re the only one then, yo, i’d rather be alone |
| Well, putting back together all the pieces was tough |
| I wore my heart on my sleeves, now I bleed through the cuffs |
| Wasn’t fucking with no empty headed creature of lust |
| She was my earth, wind, and fire, burning deep through the crust |
| But then suspicion arose and what this chicken disclosed |
| Rendered her love letters phony fictional prose |
| It was blood, guts, and whiskey |
| Lungs rusted, sixty |
| Cigarettes a day but I cut back to fifty |
| Double that in years and you may grasp the solitude |
| Wastelands I’m crawling through |
| But I gotta pretend I’m perfectly polished, new |
| And ready for display on that show room floor |
| But the salt of her lips keeps these old wounds sore |
| I’m needing more than medicine |
| Love was full length so I wore it as a second skin |
| Now I want to tear it off and throw it to the reckless wind |
| And flip a middle finger the direction that it’s exiting |