The Wicked Shit I Like

One two three four
I kick in the door
And I hit this whore
Five six six six
I hope you die with wrists slit
Seven eight nine hit this bitch
Pupils dilate from Vyvanse
A few pills with five bags
Of bodies rotting
I do kill so don't try man
You will only die fag
I was a fucking demon
Since I was semen
My mother threw me in the gutter
Cause my life caused screaming
Like she was tweaking
She should've killed the fetus
So fuck Jesus
I was put on this planet
The lord should've had me born
In a fucking casket
I can't stand it
This fucking faggot
Asking to get his ass kicked
Wrapped in plastic
It's fucking fantastic
These faggots I'm stabbing
Stacked in fragments
Blow smoke on the closed casket
I'm the top wicked
You'll all witness
When I cock biscuits
At autistics
I can't stop this shit
Bitch stop bitching
And get ya wrist slit
Like you got dip spit
Fuck it I don't just shoot nines
Never ever choose life
I wanna see you die
I see ya losing time
You decide
How you choose to die
My suggestion is Smith and Wesson
As your weapon for suicide
Take some cyanide
Or some China white
You gonna die tonight
Don't fight fo life
When your life's a lie
There's no winning or losing
With my suicide solution
My world contribution
So don't act stupid
Just go out and do shit
Ten gats, meth, crack then smack
And listen to the wicked music
Stab someone
Grab the gun
Have some drugs
Blast some nuns
Strap the slut
Rape her, tape her
And have some fun
Then make a gallery
With the anarchy
Let her learn the word
And burn more calories
With the glock and throw mo shots
At cops and the factory
There's no humanity
Just fucking insanity
When making a salary
This ain't no fantasy
This is pure reality



Credits
Writer(s): Ethan Peterson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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