Beg me for mercy, admit you were toxic. You poisoned me just for another dollar in your pocket. Now I am the violence, I am the sickness, Won't accept your silence, Beg me for forgiveness.
Don't push me. Let me get off the ground. To you I'm no longer bound. Don't stop me, don't choke me. I need you out of my head. You got me close to the edge.
I got my propaganda, I got revisionism. I got my violence in hi-def ultra-realism. All a part of this great nation. I got my fist, I got my plan, I got survivalism.
Some folks are born made to wave the flag, oh, they're red, white and blue. And when the band plays Hail to the Chief, oh, they point the cannon at you, Lord.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject