Includes unlimited streaming of Music to Feel Like Sh_t to.
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lyrics
what doesn't kill you better give me my fucking money back.
bitch at the top of the boat to you. rumor says he's dead but his new dutch knows voodoo. slack feminist. fin depressed roulette: one skull, two moods. excised his telling nine-eleven jokes too soon. but i made my first billion selling bin laden finger puppets. spent on matching holzer tattoos and white rappers' recording budgets. find what you kill and let it love you. hack it to chum for shark bait and live with its ghost screaming, "fuck you!" wanted: thor's hammer or corpse banter or serpent grip. medusa head on me like i'm perseus. cause: caution. horseman: candor. safe word: wrath. romance is not an option when your kink's husks hollowed for tarot ashes. o' patron saint of panic. labor pain-waved atlantic new church of downcat prayers to my fish wired casket. o' lordship of nerve ends when purpose makes the sun of you. trust's measured in how much coke someone's comfortable doing in front of you.
or praise the lord and pass the opiates. one skydive at a time of guessing over/under dosages. simulacra cobra kiss. still look for you in crowds of you. down the barrel or through a rifle scope now. tout harvest of pathetics. edit with hammer to horse head. find where she rests. leave your collarbone on doorstep. organ corset sworn in on a deck death cards. carousel of anemics' hotel beds to death march. my lower self's a straightedge dynamite trifling bitch fisherman. legend reads of cut teeth pinning floorboards off hammersmith. d.i.y. embalming. godspeed how the liver works. pop-up lyric books would throw knives and kink scenes at the listeners. have you ever born a portcullis court of borderline rapist offhand fencing six cancers to scored looped black embryo tasings? (no.) nepotism only kills earnhardts, son. i've sired shrapnel. my tattoos are an anagram of a love letter to stoya's asshole.
hi, i'm lamon. i don't like anything. hi, i'm lamon. bronzed pious and elite. hi, i'm lamon. the reason white women drink. hi, i'm lamon. even the king wants to kill the king.
