rumors surrounding the story of the band's departure. G-R-E-Y, G-O-U-S, yes that is the clicker. Wait till the day I die, bitch, I'll be that Christian resistor. Blood spiller, cup filler, gum hitter. Beat the sharp side of my knife, become the blood dripper. Cotton splitter, blunt ripper, never frock, bitcher. Unleash the ***in' clipper, pistol gripper, hitch dipper. The devil motivate me, bitch, I see him every day up in the mirror. 3-11, 1-8-7, break yourself or go to heaven. Step into the depths of hell, the devil is the love you're havin'. Triple six up in my face, suicide lace in my vision. Burnin' down the grudge for church and cursin' all of Mary's children. Rose up from the burnin' place, now look me straight into my eyes. Fuckin' with the G by nine, I promise this is your demise. Head inside, underneath my body's hangin' from the tree. Fuckin' with the devil, soon I'll be the hellish entity. On my fade, man, what it do? Psychic creepin' in the night, lurkin' close to you. I know you hear my ex creepin' as I try to cry. Stuck to lockin' up your doors when I roam the town. Keepin' a couple pills up in my system. Pullin' up, screamin', who gon' be my victim? Shoot the rifle to the light of the tomb. Learned to ride Chevy off on this boat. Could've been you, but I quit school. Burnin' red hood, I hold it for you. Just a lil' bitch who gon' *** up my mood. www.LRCgenerator.com