Fake flippers and nickel bag bitches
Oxi cotton itches and friends turned tto snitches
Suburban superstar in your daddy’s car
Pushin' cut yayo in your lo-cal bar
The day came you tried to step up your game
Featherweight prick tried to pass of a brick
The hard way ain’t no place for a fake
Picket white cheer smells of fresh green fear give it up Give it up Give it up Sheltered generation instagation frustration
A saint like life destroyed in a night
Prescription hiding idols sedated a recitals
Producing future generations of unkempt denail
Don’t send a child to do a man’s work
You’ll be living in a box six feet under the dirt
Don’t believe everything you see on TV
'Cause the day is gonna come when you meet somebody just like me Ruthless decimators devoures of youth
No mortal coil while disposing
'Cause this place is dark and it’s where you’ll stay
Like so many before you in these dead in days