Description
Lyrics: My fists two bullets, Just ripping through your face Is that your cheekbone exploding Like a pane of glass Porcelain under my fist, Cutting through my knuckles Like razors I really should have killed you, But I think I'll pass Like pouring salt on a slug It's the pain, Not the fact that you'll die You are nothing but a bug That I'm torturing slowly Like pouring salt on a slug I am truth and you are a liar Your grave has already been dug Don't take it so poorly Isn't it ironic how you want to Scream but you can't I've got your tongue in my hand And still you're able to taste your Own blood filling your lungs. Guess your body has Become a betrayal. Well I'm just a humble cleaner, And you, my friend, you're waste Like pouring salt on a slug It's the pain, Not the fact that you'll die You are nothing but a bug That I'm torturing slowly Like pouring salt on a slug I am truth and you are a liar Your grave has already been dug Don't take it so poorly |
