Free download
Im just another White Kid from the Suburbs that grue up Depressed and Suicidal thinking I could make a diffrence. Unfortionatly I may have been wrong. Sometimes I feel I am Gods example of what happens when everything goes wrong and when all worst case scenarios are brought to life.
Song Info
Genre
Podcasts Poetry
Charts
Peak #15
Peak in subgenre #3
Author
Bad Dream 17
Rights
2005
Uploaded
October 30, 2008
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.1 MB 128 kbps 4:28
Lyrics
CHOKE I write the kind of music that children slit their wrist to CHORUS When i grab your neck it goes snap pop and crackle Rip out your esophagus watch you choke on your atoms apple Bags under your eyes from the sleep that you lack Wake up in cold sweats having anxiety attacks VERSE 1 Say im not suicidal well I got the proof I pull up my sleeve and let my wrist show the truth I can be anti social or the worst dream you had Leave cuts were I stab be the boy you don’t understand With this Mic. in my hand its like psycho twist Scars on my sleeve cause they hide the ones on my wrists Choke you with a condom cause they stretch like elastic Leave bodies in bags or wrapped up in plastic They say rest in peace but your destined for hell Lyrics make palms sweat and your heart rate excel To make it speed up or to make it slow down I got what it takes to put you under the ground But the bodies not found its thrown in a creek As the bullets rip thru I watch the blood stains leak When my potentials at peak I get a rush off the pain Im all you can with stain pushing razor blades across your veins You die in your dreams were you cant be protected Teen anxiety my blind obsession Morbid rap ain’t music its death threat with rhythm and beat Exposed thru my name cause my life’s a bad dream VERSE 2 Thought the loser in the back of the class was a myth Im the last of living proof that these children exist We need more Dylan Klebold’s clutching guns in they fists I support what they did him and Eric were right But id make it more gruesome coming to school with a knife Fuck a gun fight id rather watch the blood spill Get a rush and a chill every time someone killed Flashbacks and hallucinations come in contact with cuts Hang you up from the noose that I tied with your guts Every time I murder get the same sexual rush If death was like sex id be one hell of a slut I never had a life I never had 1 to waste I wanna wake up at my desk back in the 3rd grade Shirt filled with blood stains clutching 2 razor blades Depression makes me sick at times I wanna hurl Been rejected so many times im prejudice against girls I never killed a person I just want to so bad Leave you laying on a stretcher or zipped up in a bag VERSE 3 Im your Anti Christ superstar but in another form I yearn for eatable abortions hanging from umbilical cords Blood on my hands and now my face is pale I love the sound of girls screaming as the stab wounds impale Reprogramming outcasts digging them up there roots The death of Jeffery Scott now Bad Dream is introduced Just when you thought it was safe to get back into bed The mattress is your grave I filled your body with lead Cold sweats and you shake but that’s only if you wake Nightmares of these phobias make your whole body ache Condensate with your cadaver as im digging this hole Rigor mortis is setting now the body’s getting cold Do you fear my magic or me cause im crazy I say Abra Cadaver now your pushing up daises I told you im bipolar now my mood is sporadic You got skeletons in your closet I got bodies in my attic
Comments
Please sign up or log in to post a comment.