[Verse 1]

My hitlist is full, grim and dull

Hide from sky, quite miserable, make the simple things in life difficult

Trippin' off a single pull, entirely fucked up individual

Convinced there's somethin' missin' in my skull

Life is pitiful when you live like oxygen is killin' ya

Mad as fuck at nothing in particular

Big up truancy, but I'll be there when I doesn't have shit to do with me

Human, give me room to breathe

Fuckin' 4 football fields worth

Flip dinner tables, fold steel chairs to see who's eating first

I aim to fuck up the planet

Coz They Live, I'm selling sunglasses at thе gates of Buckingham Palace

I was lackin' a vision so planned to crack thе religion

That I, myself, would never put into practice

But centuries after suspicions haven't arisen

Prone to anxiety attacks with a panic addiction

Mr Wrong, one of them, spliced with human cells

I dwell in a glass bottom house with a view of Hell

Drugs - I'm takin' 'em, two bags of shrooms for self

Abducted by Earth government funded aliens

Plus deranged within, son, I'm Satan's kin

My notepad is a booklet of Hell-raising hymns

And I decorate my face with pins for performances

Fade to black, 9 silhouettes walkin' with awkward limps

[Hook]x2

Raise a middle finger in the name of David Icke

Save your life

[Verse 2]

Cannabis psychosis and still smoke spliffs

I pose in most pics on some Marcus Gunn Jaw-winking syndrome shit

Only feel at home amidst misguided scum

Hide from sun, low ambition but will fight for crumbs

Drink pints of rum, pop pills, die for fun

No doubt, I'm stayin' smoked out with grid-iron lungs

Hanging kids by their tongues for respect

Wack rappers step up and then jump to their death

Fuckin' slap you if you're delicate

I wouldn't hit a man with glasses, I'd break the frames and stab him in the neck with it

Thanks to a crew of pricks who sip lager like women

And some posh kids who sat off, pissed, barkin' opinions

The room's oblivious to the sick arsonist grinnin'

Servin' Molotov cocktails with lit sparklers in 'em

Fuck the party, I slipped in through the back and filled their pool with rats

Simply for never having a view of flats[?]

Of course, I hate 'em all just for havin' more

Retreat! Panic mode - barricade your palace door

I have a problem with sittin' still, thus, think I'm ill

Pack bazookas and jack the jewellers in Lizardville