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So Sick Stories (feat. King Krule)

Now do you see this, the way the grey controls only

The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve

I set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist

Just another inner city bliss

Now do you see this, the way the grey controls only

The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve

I set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist

Just another inner city river blissUptown, soul of American century, no dispute

Our foreign coup, Malcolm gets shoot, shot

Harlem screaming, "How come it's you, not?"

Some other fucker at that audubon spot, got

Houdini to seedy schemey, junkies who would easily deceive me, believe me

Monthly, must be, easy to fuck with Wik

In my ear saying "Suck this dick 'fore I get sadistic"

I'm in the corner, crying "what's this shit?"

Seems I'm either puffing that bliss or cuffs on my wrist

Yin and yang, either stinging with pain or bringing that grain

Either way yo it's all the same thang

Thinking, might it be worth it, life in the circle, write in my journal

My journals the, city it flows with the prettiest prose

Mixed with the gritty and gross, I pity the

Hideous shmoe, not the idiot shmucks, still giving a fuck

But I pity them so I guess I care too, prepared to

I-I-I dare to, keep trying when dying

The island be my heirloomNow do you see this, the way the grey controls only

The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve

I set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist

Just another inner city bliss

Now do you see this, the way the grey controls only

The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve

I set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist

Just another inner city river blissMarred Muts, upstream harbored us

Luck loop of lucky louie shufflin' suave struts

Wrists carved up, from center street souls

Whose scars won't shut, no scars won't shut!

Back in kickball they were the kids that got cut

Type to lick ya tears off, poke ya gut and such

Now who's stuck? And where's my luck?

Barged baxter in bayard boom, where's my buck?

You wouldn't last long on Lennox, you scared to come up

But you need to be as scared of the come up

When you need to be shootin' shoats and saving the young pups

Torrid heat, Time Square post let it erupt

We're bashing and barking like, dogs in the fog

Down the South, slow draws, haggard hogs

I can feel ya hunger baby, scribble and make ya starve

Taught you 'bout tatted walls, scratched and scattered scrawls

Night you like to breathe but you talk timid towards tamed with awe

And tongues rip through holes with pockets to draws

I was born in the ocean and adapted to life ashore

Take it as a simple world, world, world

Guess I'm spatting off like hell, now what the hell

All the, all the, sick stories to tell

Sittin' in ya cell thinkin' to yourself, "how'd I fail"

Well, why'd I wail?Now do you see this, the way the grey controls only

The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve

I set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist

Just another inner city bliss

Now do you see this, the way the grey controls only

The souls that go to sleep to sink and dissolve

I set adrift, in between the concrete and the mist

Just another inner city river blissSuave slobs, conquer, Manahatta

Wally's on my feet, Squallies on the creep 'cross the

Street where the people that peep the nostalgia

All dat karma can come upon yaSuave slobs, conquer, Manahatta

Wally's on my feet, Squallies on the creep 'cross the

Street where the people that peep the nostalgia

All dat karma can come upon yaSuave slobs, conquer, Manahatta

Wally's on my feet, Squallies on the creep 'cross the

Street where the people that peep the nostalgia

All dat karma can come upon ya

Songwriters

ARCHIE MARSHALL, ERIC ADIELE, HAKEEM LEWIS, PATRICK MORALESPublished by

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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