The Soundtrack...

This is the soundtrack to kill your stepfather Leave the faggot unconscious and douse him in Goldschlager Light the match, now kick him till he holler Kick him harder, he only had forty dollars Jump in your moms whip your face dripping Leave the tabs alone, no such thing as safe tripping Bumps of K help explain what's inside you Look in the rear-view, he's still dragging behind you Pull it over, you skidded off half his shoulder Pouring rain you can still smell the blood odour Think of all the shit he put your mom through He's half dead, it's already starting to calm you Tell him to bite the curb then kick till it's heard Read the papers nerd, stepfather massacred Start to laugh, you know it's alright Cause when they questioned your moms you was sleeping all night Three in the chest, I saw him drop The only time that I ever called him pop Two in his back while he's dead on the ground One more in the head because he made a little sound Ran out of bullets so I used the blade Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS Better call home because I'll be late for supper Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker Cut school cause you like fuck school Mom fuck you, I'll throw you in front of a a truck too Keep my drugs, I can sneak in more Let's all go rob my stepfather's sneaker store I got the codes and pluis the new shocks in Nobody's watching so jail ain't an option Fuck trust, tried to kill my family twice Stupid mother fuckers trying to raise an anti-christ I steal from the bitch that shit me in the ditch And plot the death of the fag that said he'd make her rich In dish washing gloves, anger starts to flood At gun point, got mom wrapping the carcus up See through stab wounds, a barbeque at dad's tomb Barbeque chicken, I can tell mom is glad too Meet you in the car, rolled the haze Rubbing my full stomach while I pissed on his grave Three in the chest, I saw him drop The only time that I ever called him pop Two in his back while he's dead on the ground One more in the head because he made a little sound Ran out of bullets so I used the blade Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS Better call home because I'll be late for supper Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker Put me on a PINS petition, man listen My mom might slip in your blood and die in the kitchen My hands itching to push the blade then my fist in Pop out your back knocking your spine out of position Parts missing while they scoop you off the ground The class clown ready to pull the mask down Empty the gun, then it's time to reload Mapping out his murder, pissing for my P.O Get home, he's on the couch running his mouth Walked up to him and put his own gun in his mouth His mouth painted the wall, he's still standing waiting to fall Heard a car pull up, I shoud've stayed at the mall But I'm sick of getting treated like a god damn step child