[Intro]
Tough crowd huh?
What is this, an audience or an oil painting? You know what I'm saying?? (What?)
(You're not funny bro
You're a loser bro seriously) (a**hole)
[Verse 1]
This rap's not yours
Look behind the padlocked doors
And when you ring the dinner bell
I'm not the one to drool and run
Like Pavlov's dog
I need to tape my wrists
My seeds are spoiled rotten
Even my girl tells me
My s**m tastes like sh**
Two years and three days I sit
Stuck in a snow globe
Lidocaine
Frost glazed my stiff
To me fame is this:
"Look!
I got the new Jak doll, mommy
Batteries and lumber axe came with it"
My dress code hardly down
When I rock the same pants and shirts to shows
Like Charlie Brown
Piss on the party crowd
Tennis outfit with Ray Bans
These emcees got
Kathy Griffith material for gay fans
I don't pop lock in Subways
Or tag with spray cans
I spit in front of mirrors
Facing reflection that wasn't the same man
[Hook]
Back to the bleeding forest
That lies wide and dimmed
Stooping in shadow
Gray and dim
The little birds
Roast them alive
Or stew them in a pot
Fry them
Boil them
Eat them hot
[Verse 2]
I drop the axe head on shoulders to cry on
Grow vines over graffiti in Krylon
No need to guess which side I'm on
Welcome to Saigon
I'm that kid who murders in tripods
Buried hatches deep in the backs of bygones
Rubber restraints hold me back
From microphones
I ain't your homie Jak
I'm a legend like the Zodiac
Different State
Different face
Hair - combed it back
In front of Sororities
Dropping law books
With a phony cap
What up rap stars?
You know me, loser
In a dopey stupor
Spit low budget horror
Like Tobey Hooper
Drug abuser
Twelve steps ain't gonna work
I was trying to do it that way
But for ten years
I was stuck on the first
Free from cellulars and phone lines
Doing d** like I won't die
It's the Progresso Show Live
In a psychedelic bow tie
Friends question me about my obsession with murders
Like I know why
[Hook]
[Outro]
"Here they are in their agony, their men fear their impudent fury
What are they shouting? Nothing that can possibly have any sense
What are they asking for? Nothing that any human being could possibly give them
What does their periodic madness seek to express?
Nothing more than the universe or madness of hate, love, adoration, the will to k**
The desire to blaspheme, or to pray."