Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Waking World , by - Lushlife / CSLSX feat. I Break HorsesRelease date: 18.02.2016
Song language: English
The Waking World |
| When I was rocking |
| With the best of ‘em |
| I’d puff the cess |
| And be left |
| Wrestling just to |
| Bless with ‘em |
| Undress your girl |
| Isabella Rossalini |
| I’m living well |
| Richard Hell |
| This is rap, black |
| Bossalini |
| Don’t tell me nothing |
| About tussling in a ‘Lo goose |
| Know who been |
| Looking down on me |
| Frowning because I’m |
| No use |
| My flow loose |
| It’s fascination |
| For motivations |
| On presidential assassinations |
| It takes a nation, black |
| It takes some patience |
| Whatever happened to |
| Waiting, black |
| I puff an el |
| In the Sofitel |
| And I’m making raps |
| And caking stacks |
| While they toting the steel |
| Elysian Fields |
| Another name for that |
| Third Ward appeal |
| Stealing from the breadline |
| Won’t ever make you a thief |
| When I’m making the headlines |
| I’m just deadlining the beats |
| When you’re young one |
| Your lungs expand |
| Brand names is hunger pangs |
| And us love the slang |
| Yeah, man we love the slang |
| He holding heat |
| Standing outside of the |
| Dakota watch it |
| While Holden Caulfield |
| Just telling him |
| When to let the Glock spit |
| This bottle rocket rap |
| Balaclava stocking cap |
| Thriller spit the feeling is right |
| Finna go knock it back |
| I’m at the bar alone |
| Sipping a Fin du Monde |
| Or we tripping |
| A thousand miles from home |
| Telling me it’s a |
| Terrordome |
| Sutter Home magnum bottle |
| Twentieth century lost |
| And unpaused |
| When the tape plays |
| I slang with models |
| Don’t get it twisted |
| I spit it |
| For when the people cry |
| People die |
| Grandwizzard Theodore |
| Could reach the sky |
| I-N-I rapid lights |
| Flashing inside the Texas sky |
| Rest of my life |
| Paying the price |
| Right, I’m twenty-five |
| Mark Chapman |
| Done made it happen |
| But, anyways |
| Any world that you walk on to |
| Could’ve had any haze |
| When you’re young then |
| Your lungs expand |
| Brand names is hunger pangs |
| And you love the slang |
| Lay colors over me |
| You feel the waking world |
| Move fading, fading, far away |
| Waiting on a heartbeat |
| You feel forsaken arms |
| Move to your body, break away |
| And if they dressed in black |
| I get to battle my demons |
| And puff the stress and rap |
| Until I get the session back |
| I never had that Double Happiness |
| That you’ll be taking back |
| Shaking from the heartache |
| And everything that we making, black |
| So there’s no sonograms |
| And there’s no plasticine dreams |
| And no Ono Band |
| I’m on the dolo |
| Puffing trees all alone again |
| All on the phone |
| Crying everything’s just a dream |
| And so I just want to be |
| Home again |
| Lay colors over me |
| You feel the waking world |
| Move fading, fading, far away |
| Waiting on a heartbeat |
| You feel forsaken arms |
| Move to your body, break away |