| I’m seconds from meeting with the minds berg had to offer
|
| And feed my thoughts to Christ to the altar
|
| I wake up on a red floor
|
| Axing a dead whore
|
| My dick chewed up, why I let this bitch give me head for?
|
| Pigs tryin’ta kick down the door, I’m out for me Opened the sliding glass door and hopped off the balcony
|
| Fell 30 flights to? |
| on 10th Av.
|
| Landed on a FedEx-disguised meth lab
|
| And after it blew up I woke up and threw up Stuck my hand in my pants, my shit ain’t chewed up Wiped the puke from my face
|
| Then leaved this place
|
| With a 4−5 in the waist
|
| At an elitist pace
|
| No breeding space
|
| I step out and show face
|
| Within 3 minutes I’m approached for H Then a shotgun to neck, now loose the weapon
|
| And my scull fragments painted the sky for seconds
|
| Back to my brain like my brain is a home
|
| While I roll with the fame I still aim at the throne
|
| All my peers all sleep and I’m the only one not weak
|
| Or am I unconscious dreaming I’m making a speech
|
| Is this reality or my memory getting milage
|
| Am I staring at the sun or blood vessels in my eyelids
|
| Do I make music or is music making me Is this really all death or just my awakening
|
| I pick my head up, with a face full of drool
|
| Look around the classroom, now I’m some geek in high school
|
| Get fucked with in the hallway and can’t do shit
|
| But write names on bullets and fill a few clips
|
| No need for rags and vodka, got a locker
|
| With enough fire-power to war with helicopters
|
| First click to pass, I’m clicking to release
|
| Each adolescent fist holding 4 police killers
|
| And I ain’t paying for the clips I’m spendin'
|
| When I shoot up the crowd like a? |
| convention
|
| Feds storm the building for the sick boy with balls
|
| Made of steel, put shit through toilet stalls
|
| See my teachers dead through holes in the door
|
| And alerted the cops outside, holdin’the floor
|
| I exit the bathroom, enter a vet parade
|
| Getting shot the fuck up but smoke some pigs on the way
|
| I open up my eyes to get cracked in the face
|
| Six times, while I’m asked for combos to a safe
|
| My wife on the couch, dying, raped, in shock
|
| While the gunmen argue on where to take the Yacht
|
| Assuming I’m rich
|
| Playboy bitch
|
| My own boat
|
| And if I don’t start speaking I’ma loose my throat
|
| They start chumming the water with my dead hoe and laugh
|
| Force me to see great whites snapped on the lower half
|
| Locked off my arm, do it in, no guns to shoot
|
| Think of 3 past deaths and find an escape route
|
| All I have to do is wake up, lift the mast
|
| And get shot off the boat and my back to get whipped in half
|
| I wake up screamin'
|
| With a shotgun in church, feenin'
|
| To kill myself, but I don’t know if I’m still dreamin'
|
| 50−50 chance I’ma die and go straight up Or straight to hell, either fuckin’way I’ma wake up! |