(Verse 1: Tyler Luke) The catharsis fills my verses, the Sargent fills his hearses I'm morphing metamorphosis into anamorphosis Morphine and dopamine, the schizophrenic extortionist With a Modus Operandi of the attrition from 1966 Shut your mouth, watch the television, buy what your sold Milgrim showed that you'll carry out whatever you're told We order a ma**acre to clear our way to search for gold And years later the gold comes back to ma**acre our soul If you want the diamonds on your sole, do what Simon said But if you step out of line then you'll have a neck without a head And you'll be laying dead on the ground, eaten by bed bugs Forgotten, another one subject to murder by the lead studs You can have hope, but you'll be reaching for the green light You can worship a pope, but you'll be subject to gods spite You can read exodus, you can read the stories in the bible But It sounds manacle that the burning bush's guide is reliable But you can live, you can live your own life I'm not judging your views like the man in the light With all the sinners in a flame, the righteous in the sky Now Tell me, what will be my name be when I roll over and die?