Dive deep into this haunting tale from $uicideboy$. In the song, the artists narrate their dark journey through life's depths, where material excess and despair intertwine. The ocean's floor and heavy gold chains symbolize burdens that can’t be shed. Themes of violence and chaos emerge vividly, depicting a gritty, almost surreal gangster lifestyle. Amidst these, there’s a sense of nihilism, where simple living and seeking thrills are juxtaposed with profound mental struggles. The lyrics also touch on issues like addiction, the passage from obscurity to notoriety, and an apathetic approach towards riches. 🥀 The closing embodies a chilling acceptance of this harrowing existence, embracing the inevitability of an ominous fate.
Sleep Walk
Lyrics
I be at the bottom of the ocean, on the floor
I don't float, 'cause I'm wearing too much gold 'round my throat
Look at me glow
Can't even see out my eyes anymore
Hood up, and I'm ready to go
Slicin' my way, bitch, I'm icing my chain
Let it cool off, because it just came out the flame
Insane is the claim, and yeah, chaos the click
Lay off my style, bitch, go lay in a ditch
Catch me a fuckboy, and give him to $lick
He's so used to this shit
Yeah, he know a good spot
Right around 666 o'clock, got another drop
So I flock to the dock, tie a fucking knot
Flyswat in your body rotting in the fuckin' yacht
Got to mop up the slop, to get rid of the snow
'Cause that's what bring the cops
Spraying that Tommy all over your cell
And now $lick keep on asking me
"How do you spell, 'Welcome to Hell'?"
I told him, "go kill yourself!"
Then I threw his body in the motherfucking swell
(Then I threw his body in the motherfucking swell)
Uh
Yung Slenderman, get the cash when I can
Got a pint for the low, and a bag of them xans
Lo-fi shawty, come and die for me
Shoot a motherfucker, I'm that Tommy-gripping Tony
Yung Camcorder, I'm a internet explorer
Die for fun, getting high off of torture
$witchblade $crim, smokin' on hemp
Every time I sold a bag, you know that motherfucker skimp
Posted in the cut, hoe
Smoke a hunnid blunts, hoe
Very simple living, bitch
Give a fuck about gettin' rich
When I didn't have plays you wasn't on my dick
Now a playa gettin' big, you all on my shit
Mark of Satan, triple six
Getting dope sick when I don't have drugs
Yung white boy with one gold slug
Suicide dreams like Kurt Cobain
When I teach a lesson, that Glock go bang
No servin' a purpose
Get pussy for free when I know that you purchase
Bitch, I'm for certain
Murk a motherfucker, now that's closed curtains
Writer(s): Scott Arceneaux, Aristos Petrou
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
What is the Meaning of Sleep Walk
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