Don’t you wanna grow up to be just like me, I slap women and eat mushrooms then OD.
Gave a girl herpes in exchange for syphilis, put my LP on your Christmas gift list.
I wanna get on TV and just let loose. But can’t, but it’s cool for Tom Green to hump a dead moose.
My morals went when the president got oral.
If that mockingbird don’t sing and that ring don’t shine, I’m a break that birdie’s neck.
If you get offended by my music, don’t listen to it.
Mother, are you there? I love you. I never meant to hit you over the head with that shovel.
I did not know that I would grow to be my mothers evil seed and do these evil deeds.
Smacked her so hard I knocked her clothes backwards like Kris Kross.
In the land of the killers, a sinner’s mind is a sanctum.
Music is reflection of self.
Never was a gangsta, till I graduated to one.
Guns are bad, I tell you.
Ultimately, who you choose to be in a relationship with and what you do in your bedroom is your business.
Since age twelve, I’ve felt like I’m someone else,’cause I hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt.
You couldn’t make the fans throw up their hands if they swallowed their fingers.
These times are so hard, and they’re getting even harder.
If you could count the skeletons in my closet, under my bed and up under my faucet, then you would know I’ve completely lost it. Is he nuts? No he’s insane!
You can be a permanent fixture in my lyrical mixture.
Music is so therapeutic for me that if I can’t get it out, I start feeling bad about myself – a lot of self-loathing.