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letra de sick - astronautalis

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[spoken: astronautalis]
it’s like minus f-ckin’ 15 degrees outside, and i’m still wearing my f-ckin’ long underwear and my godd-mn booties cause i wanna f-ckin’ rap this verse and i can’t f-ckin’ get it right. alright, f-ck it, here we go

[verse 1: astronautalis]
this life’s a real back-breaker, ball-buster, [?], bank-funded
2.5 kids and a wife-lovin’
nice oven, can you fit your godd-mn head in it?
when the bank come back to take back what they gave you with that cred-ed-it?
from the subprime to the sublime, the pocket fulla that sunshine
make it rain on these homes until they’re underwater like hook and line
underwater like [?]
underwater like a little f-cker
on the cover
of nirvana’s
nevermind
nevermind

like the combination pizza hut and taco bell
nevermind
we at the combination time warner and aol
oh that’s right
[?] standin’ up and [?] in picket lines
hear me while we’re hashtaggin’ bout car dashes, rubberneckin’ at car crashes

[chorus: astronautalis]
we’re sick
we ain’t livin’ like this
stay clenchin’ our fists
all my friends are p-ssed because
we’re sick
scratchin’ that same itch
bitin’ that same bit
and it make no godd-mn sense
because we’re sick
snappin’ over small sh-t
anger don’t describe this
[?]
right now we’re sick
raise up with them fists
swing until you can’t spit
cause all of y’all feel this
because we’re sick
[verse 2: p.o.s.]
toxic, toxic
rocks full of caustics got a spot in my pocket
bic lit, breathin’ sick, probably think about my life when i’ve lost it
new guts, yeah, but no new so-whats, let’s keep that shh
no room in the brain for your bad luck
i ain’t even tryna blink at your little cuts
gotta breathe, huh?
gotta eat food too, huh?
got a death bed, got a d-mn roof?
but no d-mn clue?
or a plan number two?
nah, just coast along
until i’m ghost to dawn
cause y’all know d-mn well i’m holdin’ on
for dear life, dear sweet life, [?] til the night [?] right here after

[chorus: astronautalis]
we’re sick
we ain’t livin’ like this
stay clenchin’ our fists
all my friends are p-ssed because
we’re sick
scratchin’ that same itch
bitin’ that same bit
and it make no godd-mn sense
because we’re sick
snappin’ over small sh-t
anger don’t describe this
[?]
right now we’re sick
raise up with them fists
swing until you can’t spit
cause all of y’all feel this
because we’re sick
[verse 3: ceschi]
it’s simple baby, the name of the game’s been “f-ck you, pay me”
since slavery, never been naive enough to believe it’s all gravy
gonna teach me that i can’t scream at the top of my lungs?
cause the other’s got the bigger gun, huh?
[?] never get it from the bottom of the mud?
blood, i’m talkin’ bout physical blood that you bleed
been planting these seeds in the soil and watchin’ them grow ’til we back in the trees
and i’ve got no godhead to save me
all i’ve got is a posse with faith in me
don’t need facebook to pray for me
second that it gets hard let’s make believe we’ve been
sick

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