Don’t come at me all stressed.
I’m sorry your bleeding,
But you wouldn’t be believing,
The shit I’m going through,
For you to be achieving.
Whatever it is you need,
You dirty vampires,
On your blood I feed.
But it’s not even about the dead friends,
The post-traumatic stress syndrome
Jen, Josh, Siren, or Rome.
Not about them, nope.
Not about the addiction or the dope.
Or the homie who hung himself with that rope.
It’s about this fucking crazy life,
Stupid government,
Gangbanger sluts,
And psycho ex-wife.
They tased me in the head,
Tried to shoot me dead,
The stress is pilin’ up,
And it’s been three years since I’ve been fucked.
Well fucked for real,
Fucking bitches look like dudes in heels.
Not a goddamn motherfucker gives a shit about how I feel,
And I’m feeling mad,
Stressed out & enraged.
People think they’re actors,
More drama on the stage.
Shootouts and crooked cops,
Helicopters, cockroaches, and moths,
I’m gonna kill them all,
Gonna kill them . . .
Take a deep breath,
Relax,
The baby’s screaming again,
Where’s that stupid stripper bitch, momma friend?
Into that dark pit I descend.
I’m losing it.
Pulling my hair out.
But going through with shit.
Cuz it has to be done.
Wish I was forever young,
But I’m grey haired,
Wrinkles galore,
My friends say the only way to get laid is with a whore.
Fuck that!
I’d rather be addicted to porn.
But still I want more.
Yet I’ll I hear is dada! Dada!
And they laugh and call me a faggot,
For not leaving the kids behind,
But that would be child abuse,
Fuck the money,
There’s something better that I will find.
But it’s probably just more agitation,
Baby’s momma’s boyfriend causing irritation,
No sex today,
Mad frustration,
And it’s continuous,
Every fucking day,
So don’t tell me you’re little bloody leak,
Is gonna make me feel sympathetic some way.
Fuck your PMS!
Non-stop constant stress
It’s some every day shit,
Not just once a month,
Weekend warrior weak shit.
I’ll take your bloody pussy,
AND EAT IT!