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rural internet – luca كلمات اغاني

[verse]
i should have more substance
they need to scream let’s adjust it
pitch it up and maybe you’ll get more hits
tearin’ at another page of all this rough sh_t drafts
just spent another minute back in the lab
n_ggas pan’s labyrinth
looking like a stag in the headlights
my computer screen hoping that i die before this hits streaming
edits on edits
i wish that i had several blessings
but it just leave me on go with depression
settings on settings on settings
edits on edits on edits see
all these presets in my bedroom see
wanna torch everything that i’ve said
it’s all you inside, brains and heads
just read my mind on shuffle through
until i’m f_cking dead
maybe you’ll find some pieces
worth your f_cking dough instead
i can hear you talking, no you’re mocking
you’re just too f_cking perfect
make me wanna f_cking vomit
know i got some trauma lurking
i hope that you can look beyond it
i’ll take these pros and cons into something that’s concrete
hoping this exhumes
hoping that i blew this
hoping that you see in the face of a new b_tch
hoping that i’m placed in a blueprint
hoping that my hole can in place with the truth, and
i’ve just been crying for too long
i don’t know how i can cope
i wanted people to listen to me
but now i don’t know if my voice is right
will it last through time?
or will i be another flash in the pan one night?
will it fall down if i expose some light?
but my heart’s beating and i hope these signs aren’t noticed by someone who can know these signs
and i’m hoping i’m not just a tribute
i don’t have a gift, that was given too much
i don’t have charisma, i’ve never known love
don’t want a b_tch either, but that is fact
f_cked up that and i considered to rap
i still gotta stammer these period silence
i’ve still injured everything trauma and violence
i still don’t know everything that i’ve been hiding
i still don’t know everything that i’ve been hiding
i’m opening my mind to talk to my father
my chords are not working, my dreams have been slaughtered
that was around eleven years before the jail i didn’t speak a year
i knew i would fail
one day it worked out
and i don’t really know how
i don’t really know how still
i don’t really know how
[spoken word outro]
sometimes it feels like there’s people who don’t fit into the status quo. we kind of box ourselves in to this need for art to be about suffering. that the dominant society needs to be able to understand our pain and maybe one day if we show them enough of our wounds that they may take pity on us and treat us with some respect and sympathy. good art is not synonymous with pain. good art is whatever fulfills this creative purpose, whether it’s just to have fun or vent, anything can be beautiful. so i refuse myself or my friends to be stuck in this theater box of torment for the upper class. there’s always a door out, there’s always just saying that you’re worth more. there’s always an escape if you’re willing to look for the door

- rural internet

كلمات أغنية عشوائية

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