B-Mike - Anxiety Songtexte

Every single day it breaks me to pieces
I tasted defeat at the feet of my demons
I’m such a fucking waste of achievement
I should put this trigger to my brain and just squeeze it

Cause Lord I know I ain't been no saint
But tell me what I did to deserve this pain
Tell me what I did to deserve this hurt
When all I ever did was put everybody first

(And how does that make you feel?)

These days I Just don’t feel shit
I don’t feel a thing at all, I don’t feel like I exist
Thats why I need my fix, so I can just feel something
How do you describe the word empty?
Try describe the word nothing

Wait, fuck that use my name as the definition
Write it on my forehead, defective out of commission
I’m sick of it, losing myself I’m sick of it
Check my fingerprints, you’ll see how little the percentage is

I’ve given it my all
I’ve given it my all and so much more
But everybody’s still walking out that door
I’ve given it my all
It’s getting to the point where it’s sad as fuck
I’ve given it my all but it’s not enough
It’s not enough

The sleeping pills don’t work, the healing pills don’t work
I still feel pain with the pain pills now those same pills don’t work
If I don’t get a couple percs im bout to go berserk

I swear to God nobody can fix this shit not even the church
Now tell me what good would a pastor do? Except be mad at you
Then tell you that you’ve sinned a bunch of times but I’ve forgiven you

You know they won’t admit it and God himself has forbid it
But it’s probably still just half of all the shit the priest committed

(And how does that mak-)

Ask me one more fucking time how the fuck I feel
Imma fucking lose my mind, step aside I need the pills
Step aside I need the xannies
Step aside I need the vicodin
And I’ll be on my way so I can just get back my life again

You do not give a shit, stop pretending stop lying
Cause to you I’m just a check, bitch just a dollar sign
Another vacay with the kids, hubby couldn’t be prouder
And all you had to was ask me how I feel for an hour

See that’s the problem with pretentious technicalities
Your preach insanity and then expect my weekly salary?
So tell me who’s the crazy person now bitch
And yet you think you’re qualified to treat me? Shit

I’ve given it my all
I’ve given it my all and so much more
But everybody’s still walking out that door
I’ve given it my all
It’s getting to the point where it’s sad as fuck
I’ve given it my all but it’s not enough
It’s not enough

Man I came up a long way
Just a young Jozi nigga
Bullet at my temple
Afraid I might pull this trigger

This fucking anxiety
Fucking anxiety
My demons are calling and saying
That they want whatever's inside of me

Imma give it to em, (Hell yeah) Imma give em’ all of it
Use to be a smooth operator
Now it's the opposite

Anxiety
Oh big time
Anxiety yeah
I feel it swimming thru my veins
I’m afraid I might get the blade
Make a slit and let the blood spill out
Anxiety
Oh big time
Anxiety
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