|
You, yeah you, yeah you |
|
You got a cardboard cutout soul |
|
Just a power-tripping, mind-raping, backstabbing junkie |
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Thinking your hype is true |
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You, yeah you, yeah you |
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Respect ain't a word you know |
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You're just a fabricated lie that doesn't exist |
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Dropping names wherever you go |
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Life's phoney smiles and fake hellos |
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The hardcore rush of watching heads roll |
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As I dig your grave and kill your lifeless stare |
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**** yourself for all |
|
I ****ing care |
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You, yeah you, yeah you |
|
Thinking you know it all |
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Thirty-five years old with a wife and two kids |
|
Still living in your mother's home |
|
You, yeah you, yeah you |
|
A sellout and a social whore |
|
You'd sell your mother's soul just to get ahead |
|
A disease down to the core |
|
Life's phoney smiles and fake hellos |
|
The hardcore rush of watching heads roll |
|
As I dig your grave and kill your lifeless stare |
|
**** yourself for all |
|
I ****ing care |
|
You, yeah you, yeah you |
|
Still haven't figured what it is you do |
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Just a no talent nothing with a ten ton ego |
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Until your fifteen minutes are through |
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You, yeah you, yeah you |
|
A conscience deaf and blind |
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I'm driving the hearse without remorse |
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Killing you and your kind |
|
Life's phoney smiles and fake hellos |
|
The hardcore rush of watching heads roll |
|
I dig your grave and kill your lifeless stare |
|
**** yourself for all |
|
I ****ing care |
