Kill Thy Neighbor
I might be just a narcissist
It's probably just some shit talk
Fist inside your bitches ass I lost my fuckin wrist watch
Master of the Casio
I'm fiddling with keys
Tripping on the blotter trying to weaponize the bumbling bees
Everything is awful and it's probably only getting worse
I went to hell and back and all I got was this stupid verse
I really love the simple things
Sleeping is the wine of life
And I consume it heavily
When coping with the daily strife
Everybody's really out to get you like a paycheck
Betting on a dead horse is probably not a safe bet
I would count my lucky stars
They'd repossess my firearms
America's most wasted with the Satanistic Bible psalms
Tryna write some words that would scare a psychotherapist
So I can get a pair of grippy socks and some sedatives
Life is but a house of cards
Toppled by the slightest breeze
It blows up in your face like poorly making methamphetamine
Found myself in dirty mirrors
Caught up in a slow dance
I wanted free will
So I cut off the puppeteers hands
No longer strung up
I called God, he hung up
Eyes wide open
Won't close 'em 'till the sun up
Root of all evil
Meeting my demands
You finna be one to spare
I guess it all depends
We're animalistic creatures
With cannibalistic features
Gnawing away at our fallacies
Hidden like Russian sleepers
It's probably just some shit talk
Fist inside your bitches ass I lost my fuckin wrist watch
Master of the Casio
I'm fiddling with keys
Tripping on the blotter trying to weaponize the bumbling bees
Everything is awful and it's probably only getting worse
I went to hell and back and all I got was this stupid verse
I really love the simple things
Sleeping is the wine of life
And I consume it heavily
When coping with the daily strife
Everybody's really out to get you like a paycheck
Betting on a dead horse is probably not a safe bet
I would count my lucky stars
They'd repossess my firearms
America's most wasted with the Satanistic Bible psalms
Tryna write some words that would scare a psychotherapist
So I can get a pair of grippy socks and some sedatives
Life is but a house of cards
Toppled by the slightest breeze
It blows up in your face like poorly making methamphetamine
Found myself in dirty mirrors
Caught up in a slow dance
I wanted free will
So I cut off the puppeteers hands
No longer strung up
I called God, he hung up
Eyes wide open
Won't close 'em 'till the sun up
Root of all evil
Meeting my demands
You finna be one to spare
I guess it all depends
We're animalistic creatures
With cannibalistic features
Gnawing away at our fallacies
Hidden like Russian sleepers
Credits
Writer(s): Shawn Mckenney
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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