| I ain’t a killer, but don’t push me
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| Revenge is like the sweetest joy, exorcise the demon’s noise I got inside
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| Set my sight to «seek/destroy» and watch ‘em die
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| I’ve yet to find a decent void, to occupy
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| So I modified my face a bit to get inside this place again
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| My voice is feeling hoarse—I let it fly and call it Pegasus
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| So you can take your pick and pick your perk or poison
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| While I play the prick again to pin your picture perfect ploy on
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| No—I won’t say I’m getting stronger
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| ‘Cause what doesn’t kill me only makes me wait a little longer
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| Play the Chupacabra when I take a few more shots of
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| All the Jamey, booze and vodka ‘til I change into a monster
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| And somehow, it’s so real to me
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| Philistine think-patterns that I fight until I bleed
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| Still I weave dreamcatchers just so I can steal your dreams
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| Eyedea told me, «Kill the king"—I don’t feel a thing now
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| I give up everything I’ve ever had
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| Give up everything I’ll ever be
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| Throughout my life, I’ve done the illest things
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| To pay that price, I gotta kill the king
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| Give up everything you’ve ever had
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| Give up everything you’ll ever be
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| Throughout your life, you’ve done the illest things
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| To pay that price, we gotta kill the king (kill the king)
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| Why am I alone, feeling violent inside my skull?
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| It’s all golden, the silence that is mine to own
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| Dianetics, I suppose, side-effects of highs and lows
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| Ups and downs, come around, spider webs inside my home
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| I hope you miss me when I leave
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| And not beautify my path until I’m getting old and weak
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| In the suicide capital, the city full of grief breeds
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| Do-or-die passion for the vitriol I speak
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| Man I love it, come find me mastering the puppets
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| In a public—confined, I’m laughing at the others
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| Six million ways to fly, so choose one
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| I tried to wing it and failed, until I grew some
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| I’m looking at the world through these rose-colored glasses
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| And concluded that it’s only full of low-budget actors
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| With their slow cuts and bad scripts, I’ll play the recluse
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| Yeah I could probably show you the ropes—in the shape of a noose (so hang in
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| there) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Kill the King, artist - Sadistik. Album song Flowers for My Father, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп