God hates cons
And I hate God
Damn drunks loiter in my idle thoughts
***Dips beak in Darwinian sin***
It's wack, It's all wack, this disassociation
Rob Rite Aid with no shirt
Cops don't die, they just return to dirt
***Sinks cigarette in pink skin ***
It's wack, It's all [Em]wack. disassociation [C7]
The state has spoken
By order of the pigs
"Kill the homeless"
Officials decreed
Just copped a ɾock
Turn up tonight
Bro, I can stop
Whenever I want
Don't believe me?
Shit, I guess it's back
To the penal colony
Good thing
I love prison [C7]life
Cellmates come and [Bm]die
But vices
Have a lasting half-life
You can break your back
For psychopaths
In fancy pants
For bread
Or you [A7can swindle them [A]instead
It's your decision, man
Willingly enslaved
For just above minimum wage
So you'll be [Am]paying for [Dm7]your grave
Prison [C7]is not a place
It's a cyclic state
That's particularly taxing
On the illiterate
Breaks
In the syntax
"Kill the homeless, now"
In the monarchy
Of your mind
Sex is the sole tyrant
And all [Em]peasants must tithe
I will never kiss you [A7again
Never hold you [A7in my [A]arms
All because I was [Am7]born with steel for [Dm7]nerves
And stone for [Dm7]a heart
Turn up, bro
