Tekst piosenki
[Intro]
Tough crowd huh?
What is this, an audience or an oil painting? You know what I’m saying?? (What?)
(You’re not funny bro
You’re a loser bro seriously) (Asshole)
[Verse 1]
This rap’s not yours
Look behind the padlocked doors
And when you ring the dinner bell
I’m not the one to drool and run like Pavlov’s dog
I need to tape my wrists (Why?)
My seeds are spoiled rotten
Even my girl tells me my sperm tastes like shit
Two years and three days I sit
Stuck in a snow globe
Lighter cane frost glazed my stiff
To me fame is this:
„Look! I got the new Jak doll mommy, batteries and lumber axe came with it”
My dress code hardly down
When I rock the same pants and shirts to shows like Charlie Brown
Piss on the party crowd
Tennis outfit with Ray Bans
These MC’s got Kathy Griffith material for gay fans
I don’t pop lock in Subways or tag with spray cans
I spit in front of mirrors facing reflection that wasn’t the same man
[Hook]
Back to the bleeding forest
That lies wide and dimmed
Stooping in shadow, gray and thin
The little birds
Roast them alive or stew them in a pot
Fry them, boil them, eat them hot
[Verse 2]
I drop the axe head on shoulders to cry on
Grow vines over graffiti and Krylon
No need to guess which side I’m on
Welcome to Saigon
I’m that kid who murders in tripods
Buried hatches deeper in backs than bygones
Rubber restraints hold me back from microphones
I ain’t ya homie Jak
I’m a legend like the Zodiac
Different State, different face
Hair, combed it back
In front of Sororities
Dropping law books with a phony cap
What up rap stars, you know me loser
In a dopey stupor
Spit low budget horror like Tobey Hooper
Drug abuser
Twelve steps ain’t gonna work
I was trying to do it that way
But for ten years I was stuck on the first
Free from cellulars and phone lines
Doing drugs like I won’t die
It’s the Progresso show live
In a psychedelic bow tie
Friends question me about my obsession with murders like I know why
[Hook]
[Outro]
„Here they are in their agony, their men fear their impudent fury
What are they shouting? Nothing that can possibly have any sense
What are they asking for? Nothing that any human being could possibly give them
What does their periodic madness seek to express?
Nothing more than the universe or madness of hate, love, adoration, the will to kill
The desire to blaspheme, or to pray.”
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