Текст песни Jeshi - Sick

Residue on my passport
Ain’t slowing down
Security frisk me
Quick patting down
Squat rave flyers.
Staying home pulling teeth with the plyers
Wanna feel something stub a cig on your thigh
Got a crooked teeth smile
Bait outside feds will be here in a while
Middle of december got chaos in a vile
Another day another I i go throw em in the pile
My phone broke i’m all out of luck morning throwing up
Methadone rip my head open go sew it up shit
Feel like i got punched in the face
On hold had a problem processing your claim
1st feels like a bird away no i ain’t working late
Middle of the room watch blue bill circulate
Screaming fuck you aye what would you prefer i say

Think i’m gett sick of late nights
Sick of tryna sleep close the blinds from the light
Sick of seeing colours every time i close my eyes
Sick of things going wrong and never going right
Why they never going right
Sick of brake lights
Sick of small talk cab driver just drive
Sick of all the things that keep running through my mind
What a sight for soar eyes
Sick of things going wrong never going right

Still buss a tinny on the way home
Still hit the corner shop for rizzla and a fuego
Still bump the train some shit just don’t change tho
Back here again evry weekend it’s the same
One loop on replay
Rat face 6am waking up flatmates
Sold my soul for some dole pocket full of sand grains
One the neighbours hate did i make the flat shake
Still got me on hold make my payment backdate
Inner city blues got me here confused
Wearing costumes like it’s okay so you never knew
Outside nowhere to go nothing to do
Story of my life black for focus coming
Treat prosecco like dom p
Feel home hell with the zombies
Asking life what you want from me
Getting close you get further away
A bad day toilet line heading straight outside
I gotta say

I’m getting sick of late nights
Sick of tryna sleep close the blinds from the light
Sick of seeing colours every time i close my eyes
Sick of things going wrong and never going right
Why they never going right
Sick of brake lights
Sick of small talk cab driver just drive
Sick of all the things that keep running through my mind
What a sight for soar eyes
Sick of things going wrong never going right

I’m getting sick of late nights
Sick of tryna sleep close the blinds from the light
Sick of seeing colours every time i close my eyes
Sick of things going wrong and never going right
Why they never going right
Sick of brake lights
Sick of small talk cab driver just drive
Sick of all the things that keep running through my mind
Running through my mind
Sick of things going wrong never going right