Letras:
Grav Sick Thoughts

eyes to bleed / from seeing everyone sick / waiting for my skin to recede / it only takes one click / nightly I lay my head on my pillow in thought /

torn by my rape The dead are not safe, the lifeless child corpse I will violate Pleasure from the dead, complete satisfaction I open the coffin Sick thoughts

a straw Then discribe how it tasted like dessert to us all Got the gall to make chris piss in his draws Ticklin' him go to his grave, skip him and visit

like best. Feverishly combing the buckets of waste, wrapping myself in the filth-ridden sheets. Raping the souls of the comatose to fulfill my needs. Photographing bedsores, cultured by my sick

: [Diamond/Diamond] Monday evening Evening, the sun is setting, silence is all you hear David, getting really sick he is sweating like a pig The fever

gotta make that fear descend without it, you ain't shit and you ain't shit to me berating, a scathing grave idignity i see the look inside your eyes it makes me sick

future, not of twain, "Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. 'Or was he an eried being, 'Or was he weening - alack nay mo; Her naysay' raught his heart, Her daffing was the grave

on ourselves, killing without a thought Vermin infecting pestilence How we have survived, I am wondering Time is running out, meet your grave Why must

I see is devils and gun smoke But they wanna be heaven sent Boom and that's how my trigga went Gotta fix that crack Mama gotta grave, nigga shit like