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INFO - THE SOUNDTRACK

The Soundtrack

de Cage / an -

VERSURI - THE SOUNDTRACK

This is the soundtrack to kill your stepfather



Leave the faggot unconscious and douse him in Goldschlager



Light the match, now kick him till he holler



Kick him harder, he only had forty dollars



Jump in your moms whip your face dripping



Leave the tabs alone, no such thing as safe tripping



Bumps of K help explain what's inside you



Look in the rear-view, he's still dragging behind you



Pull it over, you skidded off half his shoulder



Pouring rain you can still smell the blood odour



Think of all the shit he put your mom through



He's half dead, it's already starting to calm you



Tell him to bite the curb then kick till it's heard



Read the papers nerd, stepfather massacred



Start to laugh, you know it's alright



Cause when they questioned your moms you was sleeping all night







Three in the chest, I saw him drop



The only time that I ever called him pop



Two in his back while he's dead on the ground



One more in the head because he made a little sound



Ran out of bullets so I used the blade



Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS



Better call home because I'll be late for supper



Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker







Cut school cause you like fuck school



Mom fuck you, I'll throw you into a truck too



Keep my drugs, I can sneak in more



Let's all go rob my stepfather's sneaker store



I got the codes and pluis the new shocks in



Nobody's watching so jail ain't an option



Fuck trust, tried to kill my family twice



Stupid mother fuckers trying to raise an anti-christ



I steal from the bitch that shit me in the ditch



And plot the death of the fag that said he'd make her rich



In dish washing gloves, anger starts to flood



At gun point, got mom wrapping the carcus up



See through stab wounds, a barbeque at dad's tomb



Barbeque chicken, I can tell mom is glad too



Meet you in the car, rolled the haze



Rubbing my full stomach while I pissed on his grave







Three in the chest, I saw him drop



The only time that I ever called him pop



Two in his back while he's dead on the ground



One more in the head because he made a little sound



Ran out of bullets so I used the blade



Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS



Better call home because I'll be late for supper



Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker







Put me on a pins petition, man listen



My mom might slip in your blood and die in the kitchen



My hands itching to push the blade then my fist in



Pop out your back knocking your spine out of position



Parts missing while they scoop you off the ground



The class clown ready to pull the mask down



Empty the gun, then it's time to reload



Mapping out his murder, pissing for my P.O



Get home, he's on the couch running his mouth



Walked up to him and put his own gun in his mouth



His mouth painted the wall, he's still standing waiting to fall



Heard a car pull up, I shoud've stayed at the mall



But I'm sick of getting treated like a god damn step child

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