Lyrics

(BURP) YEAH... DOES THAT SOUND FAMILIAR, BITCH? I'M SURE IT DOES! AHAHAHAHA BITCH IT'S MOTHA FUCKIN 4LUNG, THE ANGEL OF DEATH BITCHES LINING UP TO WIFE ME BETTER NOT HOLD THEIR BREATH CUZ I'VE HAD IT UP TO HERE WITH ALL YOU FAGGOTS AND FAKES I DON'T ASSOCIATE WITH PEOPLE BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE SNAKES GONNA RENT MYSELF A LITTLE STUDIO IN SPOKANE FILL IT UP WITH TONS OF SHIT AND DIE ALONE IF I CAN CUZ THE KINDNESS OF ANOTHER ALWAYS COMES WITH A FEE AND THAT AIN'T THE KINDA SUCKA THAT I'M TRYNA BE GOT A HAND ON MY KNIFE, KEEP A PAW ON MY PIECE I'LL REVEAL WHAT I CONCEAL WHEN YOU EXPECT IT THE LEAST UR ASS AIN'T EVEN SWISS BUT THEY BE CALLIN YOU CHEESE BECAUSE I CREAM IN EVERY HOLE I MAKE TO SPREAD MY DISEASE I'M A NO GOOD DIRTY ROTTEN SON OF A FUCK AND IF YOU WANNA BE MY FRIEND WELL THEN YOU'RE SHIT OUTTA LUCK BECAUSE HUMANS MAKE ME FEEL SO FUCKIN SICK I COULD CHUCK VAMPIRE-ASS BITCHES ALL YOU DO IS SUCK I'LL CONSUME YOUR FUCKIN BODY AND I'LL START WITH THE LEGS THROW YA BONES INTO A PILE OF FECES LIKE POPE GREG (the 1st) I DON'T CARE IF IT'S A CIRCLE, I'M DRIVIN A SQUARE PEG CHEW YOUR FUCKIN FACE LIKE I'M TRIPPING ON NUTMEG I'M A THREAT TO YOUR HEALTH I'M A THREAT TO YOUR LIFE I'M A THREAT TO YOUR MOTHER SON DAUGHTER AND UR WIFE I'M THE MARQUIS DE SADE I'M THE SAINT OF DECAY I'M WHATEVER I GOTTA CALL MYSELF TO KEEP YOU AWAY, BITCH! FUCK YOU!