| I can’t forgive him or myself
|
| «Na zdrowie!» |
| Pour it out for health
|
| Just a mutt bitch that grew up in hell
|
| And fuck, I got stories to tell
|
| They called my dad a creeper when they stripped me away from him
|
| On sad days I believed them, dirt on the name of Steven
|
| Teenage cuts, cuts that ain’t stopped bleeding
|
| To feel is fuckin' freedom, I got my Eastern Dreamin
|
| Swimmin', he’s a fiend, chances are he’ll make a scene
|
| There he goes again, rude cunt, real cunt
|
| (Yah) Mongrel blood is deeper, drownin' with no culture
|
| Some boys think they’re predators when they’re really vultures
|
| Hell is bubblin' over, tell me can you smell the sulfur?
|
| Take another toke and melt into the sofa
|
| You need a bad man to keep the bad men at the door
|
| Only God is keeping score, I’m Madonna and the whore
|
| And they keep on wanting more and I keep on letting blood
|
| Even though I gave it all, mind’s racing back and forth
|
| Shoulda fuckin' took that call, reaper man was at his door
|
| And when he died his heart was sore
|
| I can’t forgive him or myself
|
| «Na zdrowie!» |
| Pour it out for health
|
| Just a mutt bitch that grew up in hell
|
| And fuck, I got stories to tell
|
| I can’t forgive him or myself
|
| «Na zdrowie!» |
| Pour it out for health
|
| Just a mutt bitch that grew up in hell
|
| And fuck, I got stories to tell, I got stories…
|
| These country kids are spittin' as they’re calling me a freak
|
| But I’m on a winning spree, despite of my pedigree
|
| Always thought I was better, my momma calls me judgemental
|
| Thats why I’m not sentimental
|
| And the past I have left it behind
|
| But the guilt it is still on my mind
|
| At the funeral I couldn’t cry
|
| I rap this shit with tears in my eyes (Yah)
|
| I find it hard to sleep, cunt
|
| I’m thinking of some whack shit
|
| The demons of the past are always fuckin' in the back seat
|
| Sugar cane and bad heat
|
| Mosquito bites and dank weed
|
| The kids that once harassed me
|
| Will never fucking pass me
|
| Red dust in the rear view, I can’t fucking see you
|
| I got a bad man, he keeps the bad man at the door
|
| '96 Bonnie and Clyde, mother fuck the law
|
| Bubba grew up poor, that’s why I want it all
|
| I can’t forgive him or myself
|
| «Na zdrowie!» |
| Pour it out for health
|
| Just a mutt bitch that grew up in hell
|
| And fuck, I got stories to tell
|
| And I can’t forgive him or myself
|
| «Na zdrowie!» |
| Pour it out for health
|
| Just a mutt bitch that grew up in hell
|
| And fuck, I got stories to tell, I got stories…
|
| Can’t forgive him or myself
|
| «Na zdrowie!» |
| Pour it out for health
|
| Just a mutt bitch that grew up in hell
|
| And fuck, I got stories to tell
|
| And I can’t forgive him or myself
|
| «Na zdrowie!» |
| Pour it out for health
|
| Just a mutt bitch that grew up in hell
|
| And fuck, I got stories to tell, I got stories… |