If somebody really loved me
I'd wake up with a loaded .22
two pennies, and a pre-written note that says " HAHAHA I BEAT YOU"
then while everybodys at school
Id put on some Tupac and blow out my forehead and back head and leave the mess for the rest of you
If you thought I was deaf dumb and blind than this shit would make sense, but it dont, so I cant see the excuse
hear the good reason to take this shit or really feel the abuse
and it wouldnt surprise me if they started playing around
and started paying someone to dress up like a clown
and follow me around
imitate me, irritate me and stare me down
make fun of the way I talk and act until I put the blunt down
On a side note,
its been like a year kid, i knew the whole time you two were fucking around
do I give a shit? No, Id say it in spanish but I dont know the translation,
so just take it in english, kid. It is always about you.
I love you. swallow that, please dont get it stuck in your ear, dont drown.
I know its disgusting, if a doc saw it through a microscope he'd say " ID SAY its infected, christ its yellowish-brown
we need to operate post-hate on this lady " get my surgical gown
Just another victim for my favorite burial ground
people I love, who cant stand to have me be around
im sorry duckie,forget i said it. ive got a dirty mouth.
ask you beau about that love note her wrote you in our bathroom and I ate, next time hes down
Im in the dog pound. arent I
when Im supposed to be playing the bad guy who cant see anybody eye to eye
with a strange addiction to Denny's french fries and blonde hair dye, man i need to work on my war cry.
applaud! i do this for you coco this kind of art is stupid
rippin out my heart and rhyming all the words so I can form something with substance
something deep and full of holes for cupid to piss in
and another thing Forthwith Mrs. Smith the Victim , the redheaded Myth is pleading the fifth
on accounts of all crimes so dont speak the name of the devil himself. Or I might stab you with a toothpick.
I spend enough time thinking about cops and medical attention, figuring out what I do every day
to piss off the people I live with
while im in my room with the lights off listening to music
So since all I ever wanted I know now I achieve only while I dream
and the toll-collector left me my two cents to do with as I please
I'll make a pretend phone call to Mr. San-San, The Japanese King of the Trees
place an order for all the drugs he's got, at least 2 keys of each
and ask for his advise on what it is I have, 'Is it parkinsons disease?"
my hands tremble, my lips shake, and most of the time my brain feels like processed cheese