(Verse 1: Tyler Luke)
The catharsis fills my verses, the Sargent fills his hearses
I'm morphing metamorphosis into anamorphosis
Morphine and dopamine, the schizophrenic extortionist
With a Modus Operandi of the attrition from 1966
Shut your mouth, watch the television, buy what your sold
Milgrim showed that you'll carry out whatever you're told
We order a massacre to clear our way to search for gold
And years later the gold comes back to massacre our soul
If you want the diamonds on your sole, do what Simon said
But if you step out of line then you'll have a neck without a head
And you'll be laying dead on the ground, eaten by bed bugs
Forgotten, another one subject to murder by the lead studs
You can have hope, but you'll be reaching for the green light
You can worship a pope, but you'll be subject to gods spite
You can read exodus, you can read the stories in the bible
But It sounds manacle that the burning bush's guide is reliable
But you can live, you can live your own life
I'm not judging your views like the man in the light
With all the sinners in a flame, the righteous in the sky
Now Tell me, what will be my name be when I roll over and die?