lirik lagu rotten luck – verb t & illinformed
[intro: verb t]
yo yo, yeah yeah, one two one two
hey hey, hey hey, yeah yeah, ah ha
[verse 1: verb t]
i got dust from sp*ce in my lungs
i got love and hate on my tongue
tryna find my way on the run (on the run, yo)
yo, look
i felt i was made of fibreglass
got up and felt quite bizarre
see we’re fragile by nature, sign of our
inner demons intervening
[?] like we can’t think of meaning in anything we doing
but we tryna drift through and look for the brighter moments
heart was wider open when i started to trust (for real)
piling up the pressure like we can’t combust
self*sacrifice, without the knowledge of it
spat my drink out, sh*t i spilled a lot of knowledge
i’m nodding off and drifting away, missing for days
i’ll call you when i need su’t
which from you would be never
that’s a foolish endeavour
i was scooped from the heavens
in a dump truck, jumped in the back and then stuck both my thumbs up (skreech)
the tyres went
i was headed back to earth on that funky ride again
[chorus: verb t]
i got dust from sp*ce in my lungs
i got love and hate on my tongue
tryna find my way on the run
while everybody fighting for scr*ps like there’s not enough
don’t get yours. they say it’s rotten luck
dropping excuses, nah that is not enough
don’t get yours. they say it’s rotten luck
dropping excuses, nah that is not enough
[verse 2: verb t]
it was looking like h*ll
lookin’ like help wasn’t coming so i helped myself (woo)
smoke from the ears, sh*t, i musta blown a fuse or two
on a iv like a four in roman numerals
in the bed looking like a bag of lunch meat
needle shots in my arm, feeling like a junkie
the other heads looking f*cked and they leave to smoke outside while hooked up to machines
i flee with the urgency
scenes are disturbing me
open heart without the surgery
when they heard me speak
turning beef into candle*lit meals for two (what?)
well, i’m a nice guy, what the f*ck should i do? (okay)
it’s like learning to walk again
relearn, fresh start (yeah) and now we’re born again
got ’em swinging to the symphony we orchestrate
felt like i was done with it until i got the call again
[chorus: verb t]
i got dust from sp*ce in my lungs
i got love and hate on my tongue
tryna find my way on the run
while everybody fighting for scr*ps like there’s not enough
don’t get yours. they say it’s rotten luck
dropping excuses, nah that is not enough
don’t get yours. they say it’s rotten luck
dropping excuses, nah that is not enough
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