letra de patient confidentiality - zfashort
[intro]
yeah, yeah, yeah
[verse 1]
1am, and i’m thinking about my life, and sh-t
ain’t happy with where i’m at, and so now i’m writing sh-t
to maybe feel better, maybe feel pleasure to the pain
like pinhead from h-llraiser, i feel chained to the game
like dbd, it’s a part of me
i can’t afford to lose like ebt
wish that i was feeling free
but the closest i get to that feeling’s when i’m on a beat, d-mn
all i know, i don’t want to accept defeat
[chorus]
but in my darkest times, it feels hard to carry on
i don’t even know how i’m gonna finish this song
late night, filling compositions, what i’m on
let that boy cook, spittin’ til’ the break of dawn
in my darkest times, it feels hard to carry on
i don’t еven know how i’m gonna finish this song
late night, filling compositions, what i’m on (yeah)
lеt that boy cook, spittin’ til’ the break of dawn, uh (uh)
[verse 2]
scared to drive, and you know why?
cause anxiety got me thinking i’ll twist the metal
every time i sit in the drivers seat, i feel the most out of control
out of my body, and out of touch with my soul
i’m out of touch with reality, and i know that sh-t, hoe
i need to get my life together, twenty one years old
i mean d-mn, i know we all move at our own pace
i just wish i didn’t feel this terrible about my place
but i got trauma that i haven’t put away, til’ this day
car crashes, and multiple incidents of road rage on display
for my eyes to see, as i was a teen
sh-t f-cked me up mentally, i ain’t been the same since, g
i probably need a therapist, but that sh-t’s very expensive, and embarrassing
i barely trust my friends and family, then apparently
i’m ‘posed to trust a stranger, talk about my well-being
don’t make sense to me, but
[chorus]
but in my darkest times, it feels hard to carry on
i don’t even know how i’m gonna finish this song
late night, filling compositions, what i’m on
let that boy cook, spittin’ til’ the break of dawn
in my darkest times, it feels hard to carry on
i don’t even know how i’m gonna finish this song
late night, filling compositions, what i’m on
let that boy cook, spittin’ til’ the break of dawn, uh
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