Riding through the skies,
drinking beers to pass the time.
Its Hacker always killing, just be chilling,
we're hitting lines.
And you know its me,
Its fucking MCMC on the goddamn verse,
And I'm unprepared and fucking ill-rehearsed,
But I gotta say that I'm on my way
to be the first motherfucker in that hearse.
And I am not afraid to say,
That I haven't found a way,
A single reason to keep myself straight.
Straight rotting through,
We're straight rotting for you.
And though I'm losing all my strength
I've got a clue that all this substance
in my veins makes me accept that I'm straight,
Rotting through.
This is the time we needed the most.
My head now in line as the beer collides with the throat.
Now I am ready to tackle the day.
A thirty-pack strong, arrested for hitting a cop.
Take you down, anyday.
Strike you down, anyway.
Drink your beer, make you pay.
We're taking you down, straight rotting.