Lyrics:
Todd, a big fan"
I wiped, crumbled it up in a wad and threw it back and
Told him, "Todd, you're the shi-" when's all of this crap end?
Can't pump my
This isn't love, this is foolish
I just want back what I put into this
And then I'll keep movin'
All of my chips on the table
'Cause I never got
Eating a snake by the river
I'm back to Bangkok
The cosplayers still want my head
I'm back to Bangkok
A big stab wound in my liver
I'm back
sword
Swing that swash in the door
There's a creeper behind me
Creeper, aw man, don't get me
Slice his head and run
Back through the cave, it scared me
Aw
To sell out all your friends and stab them in the back
It's something that you are, it's something that I'm not
When you forced me into doing what you
talkin' 'bout them rap fools?
Oh, you know how they do it, man
They talk pro-black, but they'll stab you straight in yo back
But you know, Traitors got
dragged to the back of a trunk
By one of your fans, irony's spectacular, huh?
Now who's a fa-, you punk?
And here's your Bronco hat, you can have that
from grace - again
I made myself delusional, the noble stab at staying upbeat
But it was only for a while
I tried my best to radiate through
to tell
You that I caught you
Stab your back to be the one
That has to fucking sell you
Meet me in the bathroom
Lemme help control you
Meet me by
We remember the stuntwoman
Flying across the cosmos in Steve McQueen's mustang
That's when they tried to call Vicki
The phone it never rang
Before
Steve - Guitars & Bass
Chris - Drums
Nancy Fagan - Vocals & Hysteria
Jamie Firlotte - Boy Vocals [The suff in the { }, except the
"Thank you's"
Uncle Steve
And they broke the TV
Screaming and shouting
Can't take much more
Oh god Steve's
Back on the floor
Through all the chaos
One thing's still
all.
Cornered to stab back, I am hatred, seeping blood.
In darkness follow me.
don't stop, we on the ghetto prize on the top
You know we come back and do the hop
Shorties in the place, all the shorty rocks, do the hop
You gotta
the rawest in town
Cause I'm a (Thug By Nature), strictly for the paper
Ain't nobody steppin' to Steve (B-O-N-E)
I come with the ones, I come with the guns
by the mass
Her face is on the paper, not the strangers that I pass
The ones that are looking back to see if they are looking back at me
Are you
undressin' to test me and uh
Shut me down if ya want, and miss the chance to do it live
When I stroll by, I see that look in yo' eye
You wants a nigga,
niggas listen to Denim or Steve
Must've had your Infrared wrong, now your head in the beam
Y'all are the spittin' image of whatever jealousy breeds
don't have to call me darlin', darlin'
You never even called me by my name
Well, I've heard my name
A few times in your phone book (hello, hello)
I'm the mother flippin' rhymenocerous
My beats are fat
And the birds are on my back
And I'm horny, I'm horny
If you choose to proceed
You will
pretty groovy
Or if you want something visual that's not too abysmal
We could take in an old Steve Reeves movie
I'm glad we caught you at home
Could
Chased by a shot of Scotch whiskey, brew brisky
For sixty years, misty bottles of Crysty in the freezer
Red twist leaf, melted in spliffy, Cali blunt
flash by behind me
I'm pretty good at fading into the background
Cuz everyone just wants to stab me in the back now
I'm pretty good at fading into
Basedheads coming through looking for the plug
Now, born and raised in my area
Beautiful by day, by night its hysteria
Fuck around and bury ya tonight
Ridin'
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