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[** feat. Holly Brook:] |
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[Verse 1:] |
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A young girl travelling late at night could pay the price, taped up and sliced |
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In the Nevada desert God ain't present, pray for your life |
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That's what he told her as the seatbelt clicked and the car peeled out |
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She's creeped out but they're moving too fast to leap out |
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He peeped out her hitching on the side of the highway |
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He pulled over, "Hey, looks like you're going my way." |
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A pretty young thing, probably in her early twenties |
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He was closer to fifty playing some song by Eddie Money |
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Told her, "Relax, this ain't the first time I've done this. |
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I'll just make it hurt more if you try to run, bitch ." |
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The radio was silent, almost seemed unbelievable |
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You could hear the rocks from the road spray under the vehicle |
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And he never would've guessed, how could he have guessed? |
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He felt a sharp pain as the knife entered his chest |
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He slammed on the brakes, looked up at her face |
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She seemed turned on with blood all over the place |
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She straddled on his lap, pulled the knife back |
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The flood of warm blood then his body relaxed |
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Cause when a killer kills a killer and reality's disrupted |
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The victim's not a victim and the hunter is the hunted |
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[Chorus:] |
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Did you ever know me? I don't think so |
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Will you ever know me? I don't think so |
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But I love what you make me do |
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I love what you make me do |
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I love what you make me do |
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Did you ever know me? I don't think so |
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Will you ever know me? I don't think so |
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But I love what you make me do |
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I love what you make me do |
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I love what you make me do |
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[Verse 2:] |
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Joey was a step-brother, real sick little fucker |
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Snuck inside her room to touch her, "Kill you if you tell your mother." |
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Held her underneath the covers |
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Covered up her mouth to smother any noise |
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Even let his boys come and fuck her |
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And little devil boys taking turns |
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You can almost hear the flames flicker as their souls burn |
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And he did it to conquer, told her no one wants her |
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Had no idea he was creating a monster |
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Tears mixed with blood mixed with sweat mixed with semen |
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Is a list of ingredients to grow your own demon |
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Then late one night out the window she crept |
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And burned down the house while everybody slept |
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Then years passed by and the body count rised |
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But no one suspects the girl with them real pretty eyes |
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Till on a lonely stretch of highway in the desert |
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You can hear her singing like an old record |
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[Repeat Chorus:] |
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This is dedicated to those tormented souls. |
