Old Ways - Wax

Old Ways - Wax

  • Year of release: 2011
  • Language: English
  • Duration: 4:06

Below is the lyrics of the song Old Ways , artist - Wax with translation

Lyrics " Old Ways "

Original text with translation

Old Ways

Wax

I have no clue what fucking day it is

I can’t believe I’m still doing this, man

I don’t think my body can take this lifestyle much longer

I wasn’t raised to act like this

I ain’t left my crib in seven days or more

I haven’t showered in three days, haven’t shaved in four

There’s no reason to be showering and shaving for

When every day is a carbon copy of the day before

The only people that I see anymore

Are my roommates and the clerk at the convenience store

Me and him used to chat in a friendly way

Now he shakes his head and lectures me for drinking every day

Of course I understand him so clear

But I’m lost in the wonderland of cold beer

And the only thing I fear, is being sober, cause the tears

Would come out, so I choose to bum out and dumb out

My brain cells are like Duracells dying

A little juice left, but I’m sure as hell trying

To kill them all, Like Metallica dunny

Rock and Roll lifestyle minus the sex and the money

I’m a dummy

I ain’t left my house for days

I’ve gone back, back to to my old ways

I’m just drinking, sleeping, not eating

Treating everyday like its the weekend

This is not how I was raised

I don’t search for, them women much

Even though I yearn for that feminine touch

It requires too much time and labor

And that’s quite the opposite of my behavior

Man, I’m a lazy man, like an old recliner

I want a lazy girl, but I’m too lazy to find her

And I ain’t got the time or money to wine her and dine her

Unless she likes Two Buck Chuck and Oscar Meyer

In the mirror I see my reflection

And I always ask it some kind of question

But it never seems to provide suggestions

No guidance or lessons, just my blank expressions

Slick Rick, where the fuck you get your mirror from?

Was it a magic shop or was it Pier One?

I steer clear from self-help books

Instead I spit stupid-ass rhymes and belt hooks like this

Man, I don’t think I really know what’s happening

Am I imagining or are these actual things?

Little moths flying with their flapping wings

Tickling me on my face while I rap and sing

I’m eating happy pills, I’m seeing Daffodils

I haven’t opened up my mail, I see a stack of bills

I’m probably too late for the due date

Fuck it I’m a be late, crack another Tecate

Can’t see straight but it feels like heaven

I’m dancing with the wolves, man, I feel like Kevin

Costner, I should win an Oscar for acting stupid

This mind state’s when I make spectacular music

At least it sounds that way in my ears

I’m a probably fucking die in less than five years

But it feels so good right now

I’m a make it so somehow I don’t have to come down

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