Sendin razor blades ta invade and engrave grooves in ya brain and remain causin strain and pain...
Drive ya insane stained with migranes rupturing veins, aneurysms in chains cuz in battle nothin ventured is nothin gained.

Tru Skillz? Where? Certainly not in ya underwear cuz that little thing is incapable of an affair...
So you compare and despair, pump ta repair but remain unaware and stuck with right hand solitare.

I got ya back...in my sights, thought we's cool...ya ain't right...
Burnin bridges cuz I leave stitches in "Tru" bitches who mistakenly think they too big for they britches.
Dumb punk, ya ain't win any wishes so ya never be vicious, just go back to ya job washin them dishes...
Like Christans ya gettin fed ta lions sobbin and signin, crucifix signin so ya betta start coffin buyin...
But I tore you to bits and ate ya like grits so I'll dump in an urn so ya moms can bury my shit.