| Pressure is building inside
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| Strengthening desire to kill
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| Tension rips through my veins
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| Increasing hardcore hatred my will
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| Angered. |
| I reach in my coat
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| My fingers find my weapon of brass
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| Planting. |
| My fist in your face
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| A violence fix, I’m kicking your ass
|
| Punch out your lights
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| Fist fighting every night
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| Fractured. |
| Your face
|
| Left you a total disgrace
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| No one knows the life I’ve been living
|
| No one really fucking cares
|
| I used to try and mind my own business
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| Until I saw society stare
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| I took a look around at the world we both see
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| And all I saw were losers and scum
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| People living lives with no meaning
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| Alcoholics sucking down rum
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| Businessmen in suits with no purpose
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| Politicians milking the crowd
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| Family men just working their balls off
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| Old folks with their tv’s too loud
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| My parents wish that I was a doctor
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| At least a person they could respect
|
| My parents want to know why I turned out wrong
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| They won’t to know why I’m not correct
|
| All I can say Is that I live my way
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| And if that doesn’t satisfy you
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| I’ii wear my pair of solid brass knuckles
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| And I’ii use 'em 'til my time is through |