Got a brainstorm brewing from the ruins of a psychopath
Change the norms influence, now you wonder if I might go back
Hey not quite so fast, I’m slicing with a lightning staff
At all pretentious phony fucks who think they’ve chose the righteous path
I’m on some other shit, while your just mere sheep
Plus all your beats are fucking weak you aids infested queer creep
Gotta put you dogs to sleep before the brink is where I sink
Or creeping deeper in the darkness, tripping balls and need a shrink
Stop and start to think about eksplicit P.H.D.’s
While you yuppie fucking puppies look like spoiled Pekingese
Ravioli mixed with steez, feeling where I want to be
While your still a wannabe, softer than some Clark Wallabies
Harm for arteries, never one for speaking pardon me
Bring your smarmy army, and get scarred by darker artistry
You’re all a farce to me, far fetched fucking fruitcakes
With double-headed dildos, and some gerbils in your suit case
Blurring into two face, but fully over politics
Every pointless argument, I’m every day demolishing
Steady sever promises and work with top accomplices
Adjust your bratty attitudes and stop the rotten pompousness
Rocking beats around the clock with new developed strategies
And never feel the jobs complete til everybody’s mad at me
A Modern Greek tragedy, been lost and Gone South
Since this Boy’s Life begun, been running with the wrong crowd
Now we’ll break the bong out within a shroud of murky rain clouds
Soaking up the sound of when you blow your worthless brains out
……………………………….and that’s music to my ears
After laughter comes the tears, but that’s not the story here
Only gory shit that’s weird and appears more superior
In grimly lit interiors with witches from Suspiria
A state of mass hysteria, the Dawn of Dead revisited
Split your fucking skull before the chance to split up dividends
Intricate with instruments, got new inventions pattened
But lost faith in human kind and off to Mars like Doc. Manhattan
With fewer complications meditate through solar systems
Getting old as fucking dirt, still can’t escape Bipolar missions
A colder vision than a frozen villains eyes with x-rays
A morbid Holden Caulfield that never got his head straight
And instant fucking checkmates, to every shady challenger
A strange reclusive writer in the vein of J.D. Salinger