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cult of the damned - rotation lyrics

[verse 1: barebase]
as i examine why things are the way they are
or the way they always have been
and what might have been
question: what came of the has+beens we used to chill with back then?
nothing. exactly
sadly it was as we had imagined it would be
stuck in the scratch in the groove
so the needle cannot move when it passes them
i remember when he got that scratch, must have been about ten
record ain’t played the same since, keeps skipping
can’t keep the rhythm or beat, join the rotation
and get to the end of the song
it’s a cycle, same way what rises must fall
sometimes i feel like a jazz album trapped in a coffee shop
lemme out, lemme out
and i’m a finely tuned instrument
wait ’till i present my pièce de résistance

[verse 2: sly moon]
ey yo
bailiff letters stacking sky high
i could pay ’em back but why try?
i’ll just call ’em back with white lies
then give myself a high five
be that sly guy, penny for my thoughts, priced high
tell my mum i’m fine while i sniff this white line
fine dine, eating scrambled eggs and red wine
facing hard time for petty crime
even if i was rich i wouldn’t pay those fines
how you doing? never mind
you ain’t no friend of mine
only me, myself and sly
all my groupies say “who’s he?”
and my main b+tch won’t go near me
but i don’t catch feelings like oprah winfrey
roll a [?], puff puff pass, then ask you for a threes
sometimes i feel like nothing is real
i’m like a hamster stuck in a wheel
[verse 3: stinkin slumrok]
and you know i likes that remy in my belly
sixty+one six, cotd, yeah that be the bros
hanging off the roof, tearing venues, stuck in f+ckery mode
always be a floozy, bit of [?] all up in the [?]
[?]
realise you a has+been, you too old to keep the pace up
holla at me doggy, i can come and dig your grave up
‘cos you’re moving antiques by the banshees[?]
only take it vintage while i’m linking with your aunties
hit it in the bas+m+nt, i might hit it in the pantry
just you mind that i don’t f+ck up all your family
‘cos sometimes i feel
to give you fassies one more chance, go spin, ‘pon the reals
but more times i feel
to let my squad duppy off your squadron then go lock down the deals

- cult of the damned lyrics

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