Crap Artists

I smell the burning, i'm yearning, it's got me murdering Not concerned by the hurtful world i'm certainly learning in Procrastinate? These words got dispersed at such a rapid rate So final the fate of your spine'll be assassinated I'm talking straight neck noddin, body bobbin in the river Give a shit what you think of this shit, not a sliver I'm happy today, the demons i'm laughing away The day before was war with mustard gas in the face Can't complain when the sword is in its sheath But might wanna warn the police when the Lord is in his disease I bring ease to the people who keep evil In their hearts but never let it out Maybe a little, you know, allow it like every then and now Its only human to stoop to these lows sitting on stoops getting loaded, its over with and he knows Can't lift his head past his shoulders, still sticking the same holes...