Anatomy 1:1

You wanna hear anger in a way never expressed before? The boy speaking to you has kicked in doors And put men on the floor Is that enough? Or Or you want more? You want blood? You want guts? You want guns? You want gore? You wanna tie a man up in his own house? Beat him in the face with a pistol and tape his mouth And just keep hittin' him til' there's so much blood The duct tape falls from his face and he screams to God above And he screams to those he loves To help him out of his situation But God left the slums alone So you're sittin' here with Satan And we've all sold our souls The only difference is You've got a cheap price I'm sittin' next to where the Devil sits And I've lost the center of my world A life sentence means nothing to me So if you look at me wrong or for too long I'll have your momma singin' songs with your family And the quire And the priest Put your feet in my shoes You will feel the same things A couple decades worth of pain And all you'll ever know is my name And I can't make you change How do I explain? And where do I start? If it sounds too crazy Then I'm lying If it's abstract Then it's art If I don't say it poetic I'm ignorant If I do I'm not convincing If I read real God couldn't have killed a man If I killed a man, I couldn't have read anything So I'm up late strategizing Then; "Wait. why am I trying to convince narrow minded fucks I hate? Of course they don't get it They're built like shit." And I could've said it with metaphors But this way you understand it, Goddammit! At my back I got the killers And the thieves And the bandits And you think I care? About clothes, shoes, and hair? Mother fucker I'm from ruins! You can't wear my boots in While you were kissin' I was shootin' This here is Flint, Michigan (Haha) While you were playing with your friends We were burying men And all they keep asking me is: "Have you ever killed?" They ignore the fact I'm creating art at levels they never will They overlook the fact I posses a mind no one they've ever met posseses So I overlook their question But know my trigger finger's restless And to all of you making a living selling lies to the people: A real has arrived The people no longer need you