Testo MAD - CHIKA
Testo della canzone MAD (CHIKA), tratta dall'album SAMSON: THE ALBUM
Uh
Perpetual chip on my shoulder, I'm tired of fakin' this shit like a poser
Attention is lost in a second, these battles are endless, I'm built like a soldier
Got women who tend to my issues, just bring me some tissues if you gon' come over
A bottle of liquor make therapy quicker, might regret this shit when I'm older
My enemies caught in a whirlwind
My ego the size of a boulder (boulder)
I'm hopin' to watch as the world end
I'm a witness who lost they Jehovah
And I'm smokin' a blunt with a pearled end
I got higher to feel a bit closer
I'm the image of fire, I'm tired
I been the example, put me on a poster
I think I may be too raw for this life
Dreamin' all day make it darker at night
And then stayin' awake get me tossed into fights
And when I find my footin', they tossin' a knife
Bad girl, really, mad girl on the low
Make a sad girl get a bag off of no hope
And then after, I ask for a box and a rope
And I hear an applause as I cough and I choke
Perpetual chip on my shoulder, I'm tired of fakin' this shit like a poser
Attention is gone in a second, these battles be endless, I'm built like a soldier
To the women who tend to my issues, just bring me some tissues if you gon' come over
And a bottle of liquor make therapy quicker, I'll regret this shit when I'm older
I've written about all the good times, I've sung a few songs of the bad
I lie to myself that I'm happy, then after, I feel I've been had
I ask what the price of my peace is, if I can exploit it to cop a new bag
Y'all met me before, I was angry, but excuse me, I'm 'bout to get mad
Excuse me, I'm 'bout to get mad
Excuse me, I'm 'bout to get -, 'bout to get -
Hol' up
Pardon me, I'm gettin' pissed, and I don't give a fuck what y'all think about it
'Cause y'all be mistakin' my trauma for drama and don't give a fuck 'less I sing about it
My nigga, I been knew this shit was transactional, loner for life, that's the thing about it
I'm already gone, I done been an addict
I don't want your prayers, I've already had it
I'm already sick, just asymptomatic
'Cause if I don't hide it, I seem dramatic
From cryin' to smilin', that shit is magic, someone give me an Oscar for illest actress
I'll be a symbol for hidden sadness that is doomed to come
It get really tragic just to give your all in the midst of madness
But what really count is how thick your cash is (thick your cash is)
Perpetual chip on my shoulder, I'm tired of fakin' this shit like a poser
My message in lost in the moment, blown up in my face, hand grenade, l'm a soldier
Next time I'm out gettin' my toes done, I'll ask if it come with a tag
If you think before I was angry, you don't wanna see me get mad
Credits
Writer(s): Andre Carnell Robertson, Andrew Joseph Gradwohl Jr, Carl Taylor, Zachary Perry, Jane Chika Oranika, Derek Dixie, Derelle De Sean Rideout
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