"God’s Country"

You’re too f**king weak to live a day in my head and you’re too f**king scared to realize heaven's hell. You live your life in a rut, with the blinds drawn shut, with your head in your hands like a shot to the gut. Chasing a chance at the top with a smile and a wave, this city is full of fakers, this city is full of graves. No better than the trash on the tracks, blank like concrete on the street. I love the hate I hold. Growing up, I learned how to sit and listen. Now I stand up and take aim from my position. Ripped from the dead minds of the majority and hearing the lies of the civil authority. I'm the f**king gun shoved into your back. They're all dead inside with hollow eyes forcing words upon their tongues to disguise their miserable f**king lives. They are all in the stars, but I'm looking at the gutter
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