Bloody Shepherd - Addicted to Sadness

Yeah, I've woken up in the ER from an overdose three times in the last four months
He's been in jail many times
I don't even know, honestly, what kind of drugs I've put into my body
I don't even care
(Ay, yuh)
You didn't even know
(Hold up)
(Ay, yuh)
I don't even care
(Woah woah)
(Yuh)
Let me smoke my roach
(Wah)
(Yuh)
Bitch won't ever feel my love, it's only for my mother
I got wax by the ounce, but that's only for my brothers
I still meet and greet some bitches, yeah, I do this every day
Chicken head squawking, it was good, meh, but not insane
Pussy boy throwing love away like it's the 60s
Hippies playing naked like some goofy-ass pixies
Prefer to meet with scholars while we talked about the money
Fuck being a husband, yeah, she used to call me honey

Might I live a life of riches
Might I live a life of fame
But fame can suck my dick, 'cause when we're dead, it's all the fucking same
I taught people how to crime and people taught me how to cult
I did live so many lives, don't give a shit about your insults
Husband
Hippie
Missionary
Rehab
Metalcore
Player
Skater and law breaker
Addict to the core
Can't complain, I grew up well, rode skateboards to the store
Funny how life with my dope now better than before
Tragedy and suffering have played such a large role in your life
There's nothing you can do to change things for the better anymore
You've become resigned, hopeless, addicted to sadness

Seen and done traumatic shit, this keeps me on my toes
Shit gets dark, so real inside, but that's just how it goes (yuh)
Four a.m. with rando crew 'cause I ran out of fucks
As I take another hit, feeling like my life really sucks
Look into my mama's eyes, a tear runs down her face
Can't look in the mirror 'cause that's who I do disgrace
Cutthroat motherfucker, but I still ain't caught no case
Yo, I lived a hundred lives, but ain't got no home base
I won't say what kind of drugs, but just know that they work
Magic keeping me alive, it's here where demons lurk
Lost all love and lost my life, 21 divorced my wife
Don't need bullets, pack a knife, just pray you never feel my strife

Written by:
Michael Quinlan

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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