Soul Vibe Syndicate - Habits

It's so tragic, these cold habits leave you rolling in sadness
These cold habits leave you roaming with madness
Your soul's damaged, all you know is the static
These cold habits leave you

It's a cold habit
It's so tragic
It's a cold habit
All I know is static

It's a cold habit
Think you know baggage
It's a cold habit

No stranger to being stabbed in the back by a gold dagger
Held by my own hand trying to be my own man, a cold wager
Don't be a pack rat, yo, there's mold up on that packet
The old adage, when in doubt, throw it out if you ain't know, you had it
I'm back at it, I don't mean to play dad to you cats, but I got that big dad energy
Yeah, I cleaned up my act, now hip-hop's like my child, the only meaning of that
It's a fact, for my kids, I got a habit of keeping on task

Roll with the hunches
Heart turned cold from the punches
Formerly known for that pungent smoke, leave them choked way down in the dungeon
Run amok with the filthy nonsense
Wake up with a guilty conscience
Non-responsive, feeling rotten to the core, the devil's knocking
Double down on the dose, I'm dozing, drugs are taking hold
Life's a roller coaster, can't ride that shit till you're old
The trials and tribulations, the scales of justice tips
And that blindfolded lady man she sees you when you trip, with them

It's so tragic, these cold habits leave you rolling in sadness
These cold habits leave you roaming with madness
Your soul's damaged, all you know is the static
These cold habits leave you

These cold habits
You know static
These cold habits
It's so tragic
These cold habits
There's no static
These cold habits

Gutter life, wizard mother right, now you're scoring for a fix
You'd probably burn a bridge, nothing exists except the bliss
The dragon's kiss you're dragged through shit yelling back, life's a bitch
Compelled to get it off your chest, the spell you're under's thick

Keep right, survive straight, life ain't hard if it's all he's known
So high he's out of body, mind feeling like a drone
Peeling back the pineal lid, the finest hit is home
In trying times, applying lines to his mind up through his nose

Now the rebels yell at the top of their lungs
Some fall to the knees while the grieving hold their young, dad
Cursed his name, what a son of a gun
Mom placed her palms together, now she's comfortably numb

Go for broke, stay high or be in a hearse
Run from the cops, back to the spot
Knock this bitch down and steal her purse
No heed, take what you need
Cause them to bleed and fuck the outcome
No hit will be as good as your first one or your last one
It's the

It's so tragic, these cold habits leave you rolling in sadness
These cold habits leave you roaming with madness
Your soul's damaged, all you know is the static
These cold habits leave you

These cold habits man
Sick of the cold habits
These cold habits
You see that static see that static man
It's right there man
Right around the corner here

Written by:
Christopher Rowan, Matthew Stewart

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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