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letra de one tear (ft. khada) - sickly sid

[verse 1: sickly sid]
let me tell you what it f-cking feels like
to be so close to the finish line, the prize is neigh
so close you can see it with 20/200 eyesight
it sounds pretty rewarding but really it’s quite a rut
an exhausting little strut of time, wish i could jump-cut out, but then what?
at this point in my life, it’s either be scared to death or die of boredom
look on a forum, find something morbid about how one slip and i’ll be at the bottom
some stardom, afraid of that, born dumb as a matter of fact
i’ve lacked the attract to any occupation worth a cr-p
offered a nice school and my rеaction? bring forth a knee-slap
i’ve never takеn this sh-t seriously
when i get asked about what i’ve done, it’s always addressed curiously
ingloriously, i’ve made it far not doing much
mysteriously, sometimes i’m still considered a drudge
it’s kinda funny, my resume won’t even have a smudge
cuz it’s so plain, devoid of any content that would make anyone budge
i’m always flip-flopping, i’m not stopping
i never know what i want, cure me by treating my head with severe flogging
my confidence has been falling, not revolving
it’s my fault, there’s never a point where i be passion-pouring
into something sp-wning a chance of me succeeding or evolving
i’m always wanting, not dropping, don’t continue, always stopping
storing lots of knowledge just to not be plotting
wish i could go back to the says where my schedule looked like this in writing:
“listen to beats in 93-degree heat
go to school the next day, get blisters on my feet
sweet, i’ve been picked to use my depletes and repeat
too bad i was sleep, now i’m in the hot seat, must retreat
i’m climbing up to the finest reliant requirements
cuz it feels like confinement doing pre-heated assignments
then i can break free, go recline until retirement
unfortunately, i have to sit up and stay complaint”
[verse 2: khada]
stay silent but i’d rather stay defiant
a tyrant not afraid to trash appliances
no alliances besides the crew that i choose
usually i take way too much food than i can chew
my view on the workload, the few that will croak, toad
gotta lurk more, double h t gotta sleep
maybe keep snores, nimble little dork and they timber in their shorts
the ratty sl-t that will always flirt
i get it first in line but my time is 7 seconds, vine
slime, tell me where’s the bind?
where is my own limit? just makin with what i’m given
i prevail, never failing, maybe make a k!lling
till then i’m just chillin, don’t bend over for the listens
send over what was in the kitchen, quit your b-tchin
some sh-t that needs fixin, don’t need me a vixen
they only way they gonna catch me is with me still kicking
that’s the blade i’m still l!ckin
the blood nor rush fills my up l-st more, that’s the lush core
hush hush, i don’t wanna hear the talk more
stuck up, don’t give the luck up, end of the day you still a f-ck up
it’s just desire, still releasing on expired
y’all some sh-tty liars, so soon you all will cease fire
on your spare tire, my tape on a missing flyer
tear the bit off, call the number up if you want a ghostwriter
i was born fighting, that was pure writing
the gods don’t doubt me, and guess that’s so exciting
rolling eyes, boujee b-tch tiding tides, making rifts
on the wrist is the sh-t that you’d k!ll to fl!ck
quick centipede, at the end let it be
greed, what you sneeze, green, what you breathe
keep that sh-t, it’s the king’s disease
don’t make me beg, please
what’s a god to a rat who keeps on making cheese?

- sickly sid

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