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letra de rolling sticks - skyl3r

i’m going for things like rolling the oldest sticks, rolling bliss, bowl in all the tournaments
out here we smoke the coldest winds, they’ve got a problem? they should show us then
blood is flowing thin down the sink, lawnmower blade rotating older men
rotisserie roast for all to share, i guess things are f-cked around here
in the slums down here where the boss don’t care, scrubbing sinks but the blood’s still there
in a mist of the sweat and tears so i swear the ears off of all my listeners
audience base of b-ss heads running, stuck inside like the rain keeps coming
still in old town city named albury, what’s that last word? can’t recall it
drug-run town on some hard sh-t now, guess they’ve grown up from kids, grown down
seeing kids beating bleeding kids and moving on to harder images
shard is lit once you light it up or it’s underneath the track marks
sitting underneath the train tracks, silently waiting for the day where violence talks
to top it off they muck around with some fun sh-t, getting hurt off of dumb sh-t now
self-induced coma, where they don’t wake up, wrists slit in their bathtubs, oh my
scrubs are sealing open doors, so much mental, so much noise
nothing better than, ending yours, selling genocide? yes of course!
there’s no checkout with open doors, we greet those thoughts with open arms
i can’t decipher what’s more wrong, the fact i know or the fact y’all don’t
less than five from a deadbeat son now, indeed we epitomise the lifestyle
drinks are only fun with the lights down otherwise get some real drugs ’n’ go wild!
buy off of criminals running the show, spend their two cents on senseless stuff through
meet and greets in parking lots (yo), right in front of the cop shop (woo!)
when you’re that far gone there’s not a slice of hope, lessons aren’t taught through sniper scopes
there’s no chill in their vengeful tasks, police are tortured through bent-screw force
braindead dropkick behind the wheel, with deadbeat dad who’s facing bail
crack fiend mum injecting meals, drinking problems to chase those feelings
screws are loose in adults-to-come, this is a worldwide stumbling block
growing teens to a misdemeanour, silent cams film the misadventure
everything i’ve seen, growing up has been sorted through recordings
there’s nothing quite high adventures caught in your own wrongdoings
i can’t recognise friends, always used to rectify their behaviour
till it got too violent to hide it and now i travel wayward
i left my old pals, they’re not the same, seeing first hand the way they’ve changed
pushed it till they were deemed degraded, i asked about their lives they hate it
i’m so p-ssed that we’re all so blind, stand as you are and you’ll be fine
things as simple as fuel can do us, i’m through done, under the influence

- skyl3r

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