[Verse 1:]
This town needs a enema, and that's simply pressed upon these egg shells, this is the suicidal conversation
Telling me to go to hell, I need help, someone give me the midol please, because this stomach's a little
Twisted, of all the rascally rappers in the world, these sunken eyes represent the grimy tongues of the
Misfits, and it's grunts from thethroats, the impressions of lovable sadistic, these are the hands of
Borrowed fires, feeding my thoughts to all these hungry, hungry hypocrites, this body is a battlefield
Of calm constitution, when the ink stains the topic, this beautiful mind starts to loosen, this is swallowed
Sympathy for the egos bathed up in the gruesome, now isn't that sweet, the nuclear blood fills the eyes and
These swollen types are to watch me weep, I hope you enjoyed the constance, because my fingers are
Incomplete, so let's burn the sheets, and list the introductions to lock, shock and barrel, I'd love to end
This conversation, but I feel obligated to stab these sparrows, but of all the broken minds, these cramps
Are forcing the straight and narrow, I want my energy back, and that's important to running the show, he's
A meaningless head bread into the germs of dysfunctional stereos, how unreasonable, I want you to take these
Hands and burn them, please insert the saltines to make soap with tyler durden, this season's curtains, and
These cramps are yet another long shot.
[Hook: x2]
Slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails, loose teeth and swollen egos coated on the sales, these cramps are
Killing me as the midol fails, close your eyes and go to sleep, as I swallow all these nails.
[Verse 2:]
This is the symptoms of the straight edge, with a stomach full of decay, we drown up in the playpens, but
It's all sock puppets and sweat shop hookers, these pockets are a little naughty, as we ingest the cramps
From sharp shooters, I'm a lot looser, and I swear this midol has doubled the doses in these sad lungs,
He's just another submissive citizen, who spreads his wings to see spot run, I lost one, but it's all about
The calm resolution, I'm terribly tasty, for ever embedded in optik fusion, I think I'm dieing, either that,
Or this egos grown in full force, just another mc, bulit by the " I'm better than you raps " with the incentive
To lose my voice, I've got no choice, because it's all about these hand grenades, the intentions to touch myself,
The stir the sugar in your"e hater-aid, but it's all labor pains, and heaven on the week days, the shadows killed
The contrast, from the instructions to say my name, but god's got a steering wheel, and this pistol shoots blanks,
I did it all for the love of rotting halos, and the sake of saving skin from the razor blades, in tune to scared
Clashes, shattered knees too broken legs, must stay awake, because these people want to eat me, it's time to call
The coppers, and spread these grins across the t.v.'s, believe me, because I'm feeling terribly bloated, overwhelming
Irritable, from the contact of the corroded, my tears are open, and I've whispered a thousand excuses, these cramps
Are killing me, and this tongue's extremely delouted
[Hook]
