Sick of Myself (feat. Foreign Republic)
I've fucking had it
Your habits
Aren't really the best
You're just the saddest
And maddest
With a puff in your chest
Keep keeping at it
And with practice
You'll get better I bet
And if you haven't
Jesus Christ man, how fucking pathetic
There I finally said it
I can't believe you don't get it
How many years has it been?
My best guess is probably seven
And when you're 70 years old
Can you smile about today though
While you're sat in the school yard
Writing, thinking you're J Cole
And if you don't wanna listen to the truth, then that's ok
It'll come back to bite you in the ass someday
And if you really can't afford to live the right way
Then I guess you've got no choice, we'll do it my way
(Ooh!)
(Right, right, so then I wait a second, and then I hit them with the-)
I'm so tired of you
Wasting my time
(Wasting my time)
You could poor your soul into this project
And you won't make a dime
(Won't make a dime)
If you get a nine to five
Then maybe you could be alright
Then get a couple kids and maybe you'll be good at this
And if you're not a pro by the age of 25
Then you may as well be useful
And sell off your life
I don't wanna listen to your truth
'Cause you're insane
I feel like we have this conversation everyday
How many album release failures will it fucking take
To convince you to just pack it up and walk away?
Oh, what happens when time is all I have left?
When I've spent all my money, cut off all my friends
'Cause I couldn't have taken one second to rest
In my youth just to make sure I rest when I'm dead
Oh my oh my, how deeply profound
That eventually everyone sleeps in the ground
I try not to think of it while I'm around
But death and it's permanence keeps me from having a
Good day or bad day because I feel nothing
Except for the pressure to make it mean something
Does anyone else obsess over what's coming
My life will be over there's no way to stop it
I've tried, I've tried, but the thinking wont stop
About how in a few years my body will drop
If I like it or not
If I'm ready or what
So come on and hit me with all that you've got
Your habits
Aren't really the best
You're just the saddest
And maddest
With a puff in your chest
Keep keeping at it
And with practice
You'll get better I bet
And if you haven't
Jesus Christ man, how fucking pathetic
There I finally said it
I can't believe you don't get it
How many years has it been?
My best guess is probably seven
And when you're 70 years old
Can you smile about today though
While you're sat in the school yard
Writing, thinking you're J Cole
And if you don't wanna listen to the truth, then that's ok
It'll come back to bite you in the ass someday
And if you really can't afford to live the right way
Then I guess you've got no choice, we'll do it my way
(Ooh!)
(Right, right, so then I wait a second, and then I hit them with the-)
I'm so tired of you
Wasting my time
(Wasting my time)
You could poor your soul into this project
And you won't make a dime
(Won't make a dime)
If you get a nine to five
Then maybe you could be alright
Then get a couple kids and maybe you'll be good at this
And if you're not a pro by the age of 25
Then you may as well be useful
And sell off your life
I don't wanna listen to your truth
'Cause you're insane
I feel like we have this conversation everyday
How many album release failures will it fucking take
To convince you to just pack it up and walk away?
Oh, what happens when time is all I have left?
When I've spent all my money, cut off all my friends
'Cause I couldn't have taken one second to rest
In my youth just to make sure I rest when I'm dead
Oh my oh my, how deeply profound
That eventually everyone sleeps in the ground
I try not to think of it while I'm around
But death and it's permanence keeps me from having a
Good day or bad day because I feel nothing
Except for the pressure to make it mean something
Does anyone else obsess over what's coming
My life will be over there's no way to stop it
I've tried, I've tried, but the thinking wont stop
About how in a few years my body will drop
If I like it or not
If I'm ready or what
So come on and hit me with all that you've got
Credits
Writer(s): Matthew Smith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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