Vents - Sick lyrics

[Verse 1:] Yo, we sick in the mainframe, sick in the mental We sick in the physical and we sick in the temple Better give me the pencil and prescription pad f** talking it out, give me the d**, and my symptoms bad Repetition, compulsive neurosis Instant gratification, my appetite ferocious Liver cirrhosis, living is hopeless Pharmaceutical pills that they give me to cope with The sickness, wake up feeling like sh** Pain in my left side and I'm losing my grip I'm short of breath but I'm sure of d**h Blood clot won't stop, no more regrets I'm high-strung with bad lungs and I'm diabetic Swine flu, terrified too, I could get it Got aches and pains and a lump in my throat I'm the sickest motherf**er you know, let's go [Chorus:] I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like sh** I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like this I'm sick, in the physical, sick in the mental Sick in the spiritual and sick in the temple I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like sh** I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like this I'm sick ... sick of the blood Sick of the thugs, sick of wrath of the, next man's grudge [Verse 2:] Yo, I think I've gone mad or society's nuts Having visions of k**ing myself slow, anxiety s**s Think I'm sick or I'm finally sane They telling me to rejoice and enjoy but I'm trying to refrain From the carcinogens, and the bars and the drinks That will mutate cells and make scars and things From the starch and the fat that harbour heart attack Cigarette smoke blowing in your artery tract My suicide's methodical, cutting out lump's not possible Pathological ways to body you Mapped out, binge till I black out Purge till I'm done with the germs then I'm heading back out Tell me, how do you want it? Take it in the bowels or the stomach Coughing up blood sound demonic And they found out it's chronic, hard time trying to breathe Six weeks and it's time to leave [Chorus:] I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like sh** I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like this I'm sick, in the physical, sick in the mental Sick in the spiritual and sick in the temple I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like sh** I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like this I'm sick ... sick of the blood Sick of the thugs, sick of wrath of the, next man's grudge [Verse 3:] Yo, waking up sick every day, I think something is up Cultivate, multiply, cells in your chest running amok Lumps in your breast, haemorrhage flesh Poor appetite, losing weight fast like mega-depressed You're fatigued and your lymph nodes bleed deep purple Bones hurt, no shirt, look at Steve Urkel I'm locked in a hospital bed in proverbial chains Dying for my sins, worthy of praise Holidays in the sun, got a chronic disease Pathological fun, got lost in the seas Of excess, self-medicating the stress Now bleed from the ulcer, finger on the pulse Of a sick planet with a smack habit Selling off sheep to the wolves and the f**ing pack's rapid I mutate cells, then mutilate self with a vendetta Life don't get no better [Chorus:] I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like sh** I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like this I'm sick, in the physical, sick in the mental Sick in the spiritual and sick in the temple I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like sh** I'm sick, sick of waking up feeling like this I'm sick ... sick of the blood Sick of the thugs, sick of wrath of the, next man's grudge