Passion Pit Lyrics

Yeah, I know I've done some stupid shit in the past aye,
And you can say that music was like my outlet,
It's like the only thing that would listen to me when I talk
And just sit there and actually listen
And not judge me for shit.
And just know if you're feeling right now,
How I used to feel,
Know theres other ways
And you don't have to do some stupid f*cking, dumb shit aye
So the music, let's talk...

Yeah, without music I'd be nothing but a train wreck,
I'm surprised that I havent gone insane yet.
It's like my councillor, I'm going into therapy,
I just talk to the beat and it stares at me,
I sit and wonder where I'd be if I didnt find it,
But the scars on my wrist keep me reminded.
I just hope that this verse reaches one or two,
I'll be glad to know at least I saved one of you,
And I know it hurts, that shit burns to the core,
But if you leave know that pain hurts even more,
The shit your family and friends have to feel kid,
It's alot worse than what you had to deal with.

No matter how down you feel at them dark times,
You gotta know theres some times that your heart lies,
I don't mean to talk about it so blandly,
I've just seen this shit tear apart families.
Knowing I could've been one who lost hope,
And think about all the hearts that I could've broke,
I just hope that you take my advice,
Don't be stupid and take your own life. (Don't.)

What up Foz?
What up VanC?
Sorry this verse is so long, but f*ck IT!

Yeah, shy guy, nervous around a subtle hit,
Well mannered, always worried what others think.
Raised proper but evidently was unprepared.
And un-aware that these qualities are f*cking scarce!
Rap dudes try and take advantage, girls treat me like a child.
It may seem like I'm bleeding with denial
But I never get mad because it's easier to smile.

If people ask about scribble, I tell them I was lucky.
If they ask about music, I tell them not to judge me.
And the more humble my head get,
The more people are gonna forget shit.
The more these mother f*ckers don't wanna respect it.
But that's me, that's my short-coming.
I'll be that way until the ceiling falls and the floors crumbling.
People tell me I'm too nice, like it's a bad thing, like it's the new vice.

There's only one girl I ever did wrong by, I'm sorry Fozzey but I gotta make this song cry.
My first girl back in year 10,
What I understand now wasn't clear then.
I chewed her up, spat her out, chewed her up again.
Told her I loved her, before I knew what that f*cking meant!
I broke her heart into bits, blinded by a hurt that I didn't wanna see.
Then one day I saw scars on her wrist,
Followed by her yelling and telling me it's because of me.

Imagine if you had your veins frozen.
Throat dry, like 20 days if chain smoking.
That's the feeling that I relate to then,
Swore I'd never make a person feel that way again.

I've never mentioned this to anyone.
But sure, music is my best friend,
So I tell her where my head's been.
And though it saddens me to say,
But that shit made me the man I am today.

Yeah, Fozzey said write some real shit, easy done.
But the realest shit I even known came from being a son.
See, my old man did what needed to be done.
So success is nothing you can ever keep me from.

Folks life changed the year I was born,
Gave up everything, came here when I was 4.
For a better life, not the best, but the norm.
So sometimes I think 'maybe it's best to f*cking form.'
Pops had to sit back and watch his dreams end.
Had to pack up shop, stopped dreaming for the world,
Started dreaming for weekend.
That's a cold pill to swallow,
Tell me could you give up everything that you hoped for tomorrow?
And give your kids a better chance at success,
So you become a man when your answer is yes.

I feel this burden to succeed all the time.
And everything that hinges on, is all in my mind.
Dad said there's a time when you gotta draw a line,
And I'm afraid I won't know when I should be drawing mine.

Shit, that self-awareness is really that to success huh? Yeah.

Yo, uh, the woman makes the man, have you found yours yet?
There's a million stories waiting on our doorstep.
Giving up dreams, and about to make it count.
So who the f*ck are we to say that they ain't allowed?
Just the registration story, second generation artists.
This beat is the canvas, that we decorate with Fozzey.

Ay yo, VanC I told em that they should watch me.
I'm fighting for more than they think, they never gonna stop.

bb5bf280f746ef0aff0f7cf067c99b92