| When I get to hell,
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| I’m sure that I’ll know everybody
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| from the likes of David Berkowitz to Allister Crowley
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| Couple bible thumpers here and there praise the lord,
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| If ya didn’t in your soul, then you destined to get yours
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| When I get to hell,
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| I’ll be sure to head for the throne
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| and all alone relieve the devil of his dome in his home
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| When I get to hell
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| I’m lookin' for Heath Ledger
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| I’ll see if I can get all the shit he left on his dresser
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| When I get to hell
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| I’ma start a new resistance
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| The first act, killin' 50 of the devil’s minions
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| No hell or the total terror
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| and pure happy people is as the devil was,
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| sweeter than me habit
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| When I get to hell
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| All the evil will line up,
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| and celebrate my death by drinkin' cups of my blood
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| When I get to hell
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| I’m changin' from skin to skeleton
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| My arms spread like wings of demons once again
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| I’m goin' to hell so who’ll come with me
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| The devil stab me with a pitchfork, come get me
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| I’m goin' to hell so who’ll come with me
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| The devil stab me with a pitchfork, come get me
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| Hell hell hell hell
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| hell hell hell hell
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| When I get to hell
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| I’m gonna crucify Hitler
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| While Napoleon watches from the front row and takes pictures
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| All the heads rollin' makes the audience pop
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| Another demon dead I’ma work my way to the top
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| When I get to hell
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| I’ll be swimmin' in a lake of blue flame
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| Skinnydippin' in puddles of blood stains
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| Where everything is everything that many bring
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| Anything that you need
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| From coke to murder sprees
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| Spreadin' like a disease
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| When I get to hell
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| I’m fuckin' Marylin Monroe
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| Doggystylin' her fire pit with a gun to her dome
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| In a dress like the Seven Year Itch and
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| Pullin' on the trigger as I bust like fuck that bitch
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| When I get to hell
|
| I’m discombobulatin' and shake
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| 'Til my bones break and separate like skin from a snake
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| When I get to hell
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| I roll like a sick force
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| and I penetrate your skin like the horns from a pitchfork
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| When I get to hell
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| They gonna eat my eyes first
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| and run my ass over with an all black hearse
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| Scrape what’s left of us up and shovel it in a bucket
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| and dump it up in the orgies of demons as they would fuck it
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| Cause the pieces to chunk and sew it all up
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| Push me in the line waitin' for the elevator up
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| To vacuum the soul right up out the hole
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| So you can’t haunt nobody
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| You’re not even a ghost
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| When I get to hell |