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lirik lagu dead vandals - apologies

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[verse 1: lz8]

come on in
step inside the laboratory
of a rat trapped involuntary
i’ve been scratching at my noggin like a lock and key
trying to unlock life’s block of cheese
by k!lling tracks like i’m a copper thief so
where is the h0m-nym?
try to write a song
but the problem is i am high
and i’m tobogganing
down the bottomless pit inside my mind
via lobotomy
head bobblin’, slobberin’
tired? tyres wobblin’
like to try and light a bonfire
via bong prior songwriting
i’m the wrong guy to slide some broccoli
you know it’s poverty when you can’t even rent a house of cards
why i squat in my monopoly properties
honestly? grave robbin’ hip-hop is my top priority
i want a following
d-ck riders who swallow me
my confidence blows
i’m c-cky orally though
it’s rhyme robbery
probably why cops stop to scoff at me
so f-ck authority dorthy
you in oz and i’m the lion
wait i was lying
i’m flying by orion’s belt
swiped it off of him
forced upon the universe
a violent colonoscopy
fine then, call it sodomy
the minority hiding behind your blind spot
while you in line i’m trying to take that dollar out your shopping trolley
cause my lottery’s the chance i’ll book a gig
and someone looking for the best could accept what i am offering
but instead the mics off again
and i gotta listen to p-ssy’s problems
i’m tired of gynaecology
crying cause my c-cks in a vice
i’d try and soften it but
life’s hard so f-ck it i’m getting off to it

[hook: lz8]

so now i’m spinning like pottery
smoking mix priorities
sorry that i’m moderately sp-ced out
i’m sorry i’ll try not to be

welcome to my odyssey

[verse 2: lz8]

cause life is a rocket ship
fly it
apocalypse might by nigh
and your poker chips might be kinda light
there might be vomit in your orange juice from last night’s gin and tonic
and you feel demonic it’s alright
cause even if you’re just a product of a rip in a condom
it’s not a problem, it’s a gift that you’re alive
and wondering why god didn’t give you much qualities
wallowing, fighting with your sorrows in a boxing ring
use your anger as a muse and make some music
i wrote songs with that philosophy
and now i got these people hanging off my words like they apostrophes
sorry?
bet your bottom dollar
i’m sorry for my apologies, b-tch
sorry that i’m not sorry
sorry that you’re not convinced
i’m smitten in this flock of sheep
i’m gonna be a goat who’s shear thoughts are a commodity
written my ideologies
spitting to wide majority
mr. society drops the beat
and the mic becomes my golum’s ring
my life becomes a page from my biography
gig not cause it cost a fee
i’d rock the spot for free
sh-t, you’d probably have to pay me not to speak, what
ask what’s wrong with me
i’m a self loathing narcissist
histrionic r-t-rded p-ssed off partly intoxicated c-ckhead with a song to sing
skeleton in my closet creeps to my box of secrets
frees my demons locks me in my vocal takes and torrents me

[bridge: lz8]

you got your grog to drink
i got an ounce of pot
so pop out ya pouch like a wallaby
follow me through the odyssey or not
no ones stopping me
knowing no ones the boss of me
gonna be a star so watch the sp-ce like astrology
welcome to the sloppy monstrosity that’s a modern teen
crossing streams of consciousness
trying to figure out what to be
blossoming into something abominable but promising
even though the clock is beeping i won’t drop the dream
why’d you stop the beat?
talk is cheap but it costs a lot to be gossiping
my apostles rot while pops profiting
from what it seems
trying to get my ducks in a row on this planet’s slot machine
makes me wanna scream the worst swear words and get lost at “c”
c-nt!


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