Lip Split

Two packs of American Spirit Blues

And a fucking chainsaw please

Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up

Hurry up, hurry up

Now listen to the point

Don't kill yourself, go back home

Take your friend to tie your rope

Kill yourself, then what else?

We're always saying only one pack, smoke it back

Smoke it like you give a fuck

Bring it back, smoke some crack

We don't care at all

I smell believers in me, me

I smell believers in me

In me

There's a sway in the way I walk

I won't forget you

Feel my fist deep inside you

Feel my fist in the way so gently

Feel my veins deep and messy

Make your choice, but I won't let down

Three white lights and I just might be back

Shit on your tongue, let it marinate

You will rot in the stench that you can't contain, eat

Oh, eat, eat, eat, eat

Knee deep in a bed of meat

Just when you think you've got it all

You're still a little lowlife, pussy-ass bitch

I'm going to torture you in my fucking toolshed