Backstabbers Incorporated - So, Who's Doing Your Dishes This Week, Pretty Boy? lyrics

the end, the f**ing end. i don't need to see the whites in their f**ing eyes to open fire this time. no names, no faces. only moving targets and this f**ing war. when the dust settles, i'll be the one picking up the f**ing bodies and filling up holes with wasted space. and you, motherf**er, i hope you are still alive and kicking so i have the chance to pick up every sharp object within arms reach and put it in your f**ing throat. this is f**ing war... all i ask is that i live just one day longer than you, so that i can have the chance to spit on your f**ing grave.