Chorus:
Rock your fucking head to this and have a nasty acid trip
It’s more than awfully hazardous when taking every chance you get
I now revise the manuscript by spicing up the adjectives
While your shit’s artificial like you add a batch of saccharin


My patience is running thinner almost every day that passes
Got me pissed off to the point where I could smash a man in glasses
You may say I’m unbalanced, I reply with I don’t give a shit
Lounging in a sleazy bowling alley bar, belligerent
Nothing but a hypocrite, that’s changing for the worst
Natural born lunatic, prepared for heads to burst
I’ll drop a heavy metal verse, with the curse to look at ink blots
Bringing more delivery throughout the night than Pink Dot
Watch me ding dong ditch every rich bitch in the neighborhood
Got accomplices that creep in through the back and take the goods
A poor man’s kind of Robin Hood, within the streets of Hollywood
And killing off the whole cast of The Hills would feel awfully good
I’m thinking that I probably should, if given opportunity
And those who wanna battle me, go and get your cavalry
I’ll make a gang of enemies on every side of town
Then bring a motherfucking end to things like Saito’s on the mound

Chorus:

Pay attention, as I fill your head with needles
Illin’ in this torture chamber for the extra feeble
Grimy scarab beetles quickly crawl inside your orifices
It’s uglier than growing up within a slimy orphanage
Eat your porridge, don’t forget to eat shit, cunt
Lurking in the forest and pull off a grip of sick stunts
Twist blunts, piss drunk, haven’t been tricked once
Tripping balls, lost in outer space roughly six months
Back in Wonderland, some whack job from Waco
Leggo of my Eggo, most will say I’m too ungrateful
Often filled with hateful thoughts to build malicious blueprints
Twenty seven years on planet earth, a vicious nuisance
Passing out some nooses, just like they’re party favors
If you’re choosing not to wear one, fell the shock of gnarly tasers
On a Farley caper, trying to push my luck with limits
Quickly falling off a cliff, these final words are fuck the critics
……opinions are like assholes, because everybody’s got one
And this opinionated asshole came up on a shotgun
Take over your thoughts son, like Mr. Gray in Dreamcatcher
Whisked away to Delaware, or Derry Maine to breathe better
Shocking death like Heath Ledger, nobody could call it
I’ll be calling people friend-o, can’t be stopped, and diabolic
A full blown alcoholic, til the bitter end of time
Bursting open vital arteries, and turn the blood to wine

Chorus: