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badlands - tornts lyrics

[intro]
(badlands, it’s antarctica out here)
these streets ain’t paved in gold, they’re copper
some act like they’re your brother, don’t want you to holler
they’d rather see you hit a full stop, no comma
f-ck the fame, i’d rather just be a man of my honour
out here, they’re saying ice rocks, cold quarries
he lost his life bruv, used to just be poppin’ ollies
cops and the robbers, the youngest and the oldest
some lost it all then wound up homeless

[verse 1]
and the psych wards filled to capacity
a lot of arms got them tracks like an athlete
they went halves and half an hour later had beef
worn scarves on cameras, couldn’t be seen
she sing a mournful tune like lana del rey
on the fourth floor, lean sweet like agave
but that sh-t’s just to mask up the heartbreak, couldn’t get her son back after the raid
he countin’ up calendar days, in a 6 by 4, drawin’ faces on a page
streets of rage, final fight, mortal kombat
life ain’t a game, you can get [?]
i walk around here like it’s pre-destined, lost children, lookin’ real stressed and
might not make it to twenty if the trauma gets ’em
sharp cutter, another mourner in the reflection

[hook]
tales from the badlands, it’s gone mad in the badlands
we’re tryna make it in the badlands, lives are taken in the badlands
the badlands, tales from the badlands, it’s gone mad in the badlands
we’re tryna make it in the badlands, lives are taken in the badlands
the badlands

[verse 2]
metal and more metal, they meddle then in 9 double-ms, stone-faced like gems
you might lose your mind like kanye west
’cause if your hope dies then you got nothing left
kids eatin’ three dollar chips for a meal ’cause their mummy only got a fridge full of cheap p-ss
i used to sit by the yarra river, watch the water drift
make the most of this sh-t before you carried by six
skirt skirt through the streets in a low gear
he pull out three phones, one of ’em a nokia
i say “bro, you ain’t change in a whole year”
he just laughed and he p-ssed me a cold beer
i twist the top and toast to our fates
a devil’s reject, sid haig
who the f-ck gonna fix up the big plague
greed, desperation, danger for the cake
sh-lls on the floor, no kid requires aim
bark from the hip, won’t miss from close range
up in the hood with a mazda, no range
he just tryna breathe while puffin’ the high grade
train lights tinted, lookin’ mad sepia
bad agriculture, city lookin’ seedier
c-nts get close to rush ya, armenia
it’s all bad news, we don’t need the media

- tornts lyrics

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