Testo Rent Week

Testo Rent Week

We twist the lock like Romero's
Grabbin and push, draggin a foot
Like cavemen draggin a puss
No money, no rent, no way, no bed
Moved out, I'm on the couch, top to toe with the vest
It's drinking all week, it's all of the money of the tour
It's rinse and repeat, given the Oars dis' for the morgue
It's beatin' that beach
Drunk til sun, like Gary Busey
Suck up and say "Babe", til she's saying "That's stupid"

The city skipped in, I had a bad pigger
Now I'm in the gutter, fuckin' broke
Half a smoke from a Winnie cigga
(Rhyme my blow???) last, but a jug glass
Other lines of coke, give my liver time to soak pop
Scott, kind of bloke, passed out in the car
On the sun, cast out from the far
Near this, blast out from the calm
Like a child, squealing past
The thought that we could chase that feeling, Ha!

[Chorus:]
I'm sorry that I'm drunk
I'm sorry that I went
I'm sorry that I'm broke and that it's rental week
But that's, that's me, and that's all that I'll ever be
There's some things, some things that I'll never be
I'm sorry that I'm drunk
I'm sorry that I went
I'm sorry that I'm broke and that it's rental week
But that's, that's me, and that's all that I'll ever be
There's some things, some things that I'll never be

Like a account over drawn (sheet?), over this
Passed out on the lawn
Getting poked by the neighbour's keeper stick
Forgotten wallet, moss and lint
Rent money, that's gone, yeah I know where it is
I took it to the bar, and I invested in me
At the gentleman's club, in the stripper's G
You gotta see the bigger picture, a financial lesson,
I put it back in the economy to fight the recession

You know the score in the morning man
Abhorring your yawning
(You want to see that girl's breasts at four in the morning)
And I got a girl, but if she let all of these whores in
I'd have four in the morning, pourin' the chlorine at four in the morning
Stealing and pouring, 'til I don't know the ceiling from flooring
And if I'm kneeling and clawing, lost my keys in an oar limb(blows),
so why they damn knocking on my door, like a Mormon at three in the morning, like?


[Chorus:]
I'm sorry that I'm drunk
I'm sorry that I went
I'm sorry that I'm broke and that it's rental week
But that's, that's me, and that's all that I'll ever be
There's some things, some things that I'll never be
I'm sorry that I'm drunk
I'm sorry that I went
I'm sorry that I'm broke and that it's rental week
But that's, that's me, and that's all that I'll ever be
There's some things, some things that I'll never be

Molly says Matt lives here,
But every pay day it's like Jack lives here, with six cases of beer
I'm a slave to that bottle bro, ain't change
You can find my name under "Do not serve" at my Bottle-O
Shit, Ain' even let my rent steep
I need like four bottles, at one ninety a week
Tell my landlord, his check will be there in spirit
I'm on the to-do list with Jack, Johnnie and Chivas

If sleep is the cousin of death,
Then passed out is the step, rather drunk and a mess
With gum on his breath, guzzling a tonne of regrets
And neither cousin will be coming until nothing is left
Money's like a new world, Imma hold it then drop it,
Now eather, there's a hole in my pocket,
Or someone's stolen my wallet.
It pays interest in girls,
The more you earn, the more you lose
We live in the most simplest of worlds

[Chorus:]
I'm sorry that I'm drunk
I'm sorry that I went
I'm sorry that I'm broke and that it's rental week
But that's, that's me, and that's all that I'll ever be
There's some things, some things that I'll never be
I'm sorry that I'm drunk
I'm sorry that I went
I'm sorry that I'm broke and that it's rental week
But that's, that's me, and that's all that I'll ever be
There's some things, some things that I'll never be

Fresh, I'm poor and I'm broke, most sense of the word
An ex got rent, and it went to the birds
I spent it on her, and went to the bar,
and the rest on the breath test machine, because I'm taking the car
I, my silly beat that will keep me from going under
Yeah, that's wicked and all, just give me Triggy's number
But rather, re-doubting about the way that I feel
Because dirty money's still paying my bills, and that's real.

Testi di Hilltop Hoods