azlyrics.biz
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

生 conform 死 - luxury letdown lyrics

Loading...

so
you’ve got it figured out?
you think you’re happy now?
you’ll find how hard reality hits

i used to be optimistic that my life wouldn’t fall to sh-t
now i’m pent up with all this rage
spotlight on my empathy
it’s centre stage

so
you’ve got it figured out?
you think you’re happy now?
you’ll find how hard reality hits
life’s a b-tch
and there’s no prenup
so suck it up and f-ck the world right back

fourty st-tch
in my chest
no hits
burn my money b-tch
pay attention, right?
where’s the lie?
you know i don’t know
coz life’s so f-cking sh-t
taste it in my spit
break my f-cking lungs
and say it right
where’s the lie
you know i’ll just f-ckin…

oh you think i write for you? x3
you must be deluded if you conceived
i was thinking of
who do you want to see hurt?
choke on the worms in the dirt
and the grave your career has left
so, you’ve got it figured out?
you think you’re happy now?
you’ll find how hard reality hits
swallow the bitterness
all of my disbelief
brush your t–th with my seed
my patience has finally run out

so cut me up
take my skin as payment

my patience has finally run out
death before dishonour

so
you’ve got it figured out?
you think you’re happy now?
you’ll find how hard reality hits

something just feels so wrong
in here
i can’t
see through this
the poison you exhume
k!lled off all of the beauty
that was planted here to bloom
no, you are not yourself
no, you are someone else
my patience has finally run out

so talk your sh-t
i ain’t got time for you

fourty st-tch
in my chest, no hits
burn my money, b-tch
pay attention, right?
where’s the lie?
you know i don’t know cause
life’s so f-cking sh-t
taste it in my spit
break my f-cking lungs
and say it right
where’s the lie?
you know i’ll just f-cking

stick it to em
fill the body bags with these punks
so the plastic don’t go to a waste
k!lled the game
i arrived at the funeral just to
spit in its face
to the dead bands with their dead trends
tryina make ends meat
without a label force feeding rotten fruit from a dying tree



Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS

Loading...