Buck 65 - Sore lyrics

Vultures and helicopters
Overhead I'm breaking down
Used car blues, it's no time to joke around
The only solution I can think of so far
Is to smash out the windows with a crowbar
And as the headlights shatter into
Stars one by one i curse at the road and try
To knock out the sun
I kick in the corner panels, son of a whore
The paint starts to chip off as I
Rip off one of the doors

Same hotel room again with the right mixture
Of terrible smells and dead flies
In the light fixture
I listen to the oldies station
Half asleep and kind of smokey
Girl in the next room is
Howling like a coyote
Hand in my pants, feeling like a phyllistine
All eyes empty, every door way a guillotine
I'm drunk on loneliness
Out of shape and half eaten
The phone don't work and God's
In a staff meeting
Out of breath at the end of a long summer
Waiting for a phone call that
Isn't a wrong number
A smile from a pretty girl
Feet don't fail me
I sleep like a baby and get out of jail free
I spit my teeth in my
Hand and read the classifieds
Poke holes in my memories until I'm satisfied
I'm drawn to familiar
Environments and dangers
I look at my photo albums and
All I see are strangers