Compositor: Não Disponível
People like to think there's a reason, a reason a rhyme
And a need for all these people just a wastin' my time
See them lust for themselves and their own desires
No I can't think of a reason, a reason a rhyme
And a need for all these people, procreation's a crime
Yeah I lust for myself. and for your demise
Guess if it's this, guess if it's that
Have I got some wisdom for you,
(You're) a plague on the earth
You're scum, and you're dirt, one hideous mortal stew
The only good human... Is a dead fuckin' human
Die die die die fuckin' DIE!
There ain't a single motherfuckin' reason for you to strike (back)
Ah to the block, to the cross to the maiden you go
Yeah to the pyre, to the pit to the fires below
Burn burn burn burn fuckin' BURN!
To the blackened depths of hell with your souls fuckin' burn
Slain slain slain slain you're fuckin' SLAIN!
Grant me one wish, bring on the final day
People like to think, they got rights
That they don't need to earn them
That their freedom's a right, that they simply deserve it
That they never gotta fight, everything's catered for them
And yeah I'm here to take-rob-steal-strip!
You of your rights, to put you back in your box
Assess your worth and your while
Yeah motherfucker I'm fixin' on your demise