| Somethin’in the way not for Dr. Zummer
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| Hot the tumor in the lugee and left it in Montezuma
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| Swam back to the US after Russian roulette
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| No deal on the table give me a label to suplex
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| Came to fill them with pain, take a print of my brain
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| Flash it on the screen you wont leave the Cinema sane
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| Had a followin’fondlin’that wouldn’t let go
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| 'Till I spiked the easy football into the Def Jux end zone
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| And when it hit the grass it covered the crowd with mud
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| Mom slipped my bare-ass out, I covered the ground with blood
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| Then she wiped it on my face like war paint
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| Then slapped me, I cry, might die with a hardcore brain
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| Cracked the doors frame when I open the world around it Exhale the hinges in the air where denounces
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| My (?) bounces of the wall, then it rise from
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| The picture that it painted like suicide with a shotgun
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| I’m tryin’to pick up the pieces
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| Keep cuttin’my hands
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| When I put it back together, it’s feces
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| In a permanent Hell I find tranquility teaches
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| We had to design perfect mass for our new Preacher
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| We’re going too far, nobody could reach us
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| I’m startin’to drown and I’m covered with leeches
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| Until my last breath they’ll be screamin’from the bleachers
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| Then I’ll be dead like all my teachers
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| Despite all my rage, I’m a rat in a cage for skies
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| Communicate your love injecting bleach in my eyes
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| The dubiously demented dented to dependant cradles
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| Slipped through a grasp on the broken glass, highly unstable
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| I left that label unable to keep my master’s
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| No whip, broke as shit, chick left me a week after
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| Over-dosage of mushrooms, no ugly obstacles
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| Hid the hamster boy record scene dance at the hospital
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| In the club I don’t dance, I stand with a glass of Vodka
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| Come to terms, I’m just like my bastard Father
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| Left my Mother with a kid that flipped her lid
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| When I started to look like him, she threw me out the crib
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| And I was only two, my Grandmother was a Hitler Jew
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| Just dropped Agent Orange and aint got no dough to fix this tooth
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| I’m thinkin’out loud «I hate life"like that matters
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| Lettin’shit out that happened to fit into wack pattern
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| I’m tryin’to pick up the pieces
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| But each motherfucker that fucked my Mother over would leave me to be this
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| Drug addicted menace, aint shit to do in this place
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| No longer flinchin’from Step-dad's punches to the face
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| Blind to the drug, calm to the tub
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| Filled to the top with warm water to sink in Two arms full of blood
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| Not even thirteen, lookin’to exit, left for mess
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| Could care less about life, just keep my pool as fresh
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| Until the worms eat my flesh I guess they better burn me These are the thoughts of a child I keep 'till thirty
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| I lack patience 'till I was packed with patients
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| In the mental facility forced on all the wrong medications
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| Prozac genie pig, I don’t feel bipolar
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| But got a folder that claims I am in a stack that reaches my shoulder
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| Music, my only savior in every instance
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| Makes each one of you a prophet to my existence |