(Verse 1: Tyler Luke)

The catharsis fills my verses, the Sargent fills his hearses

I'm morphing metamorphosis into anamorphosis

Morphine and dopamine, the schizophrenic extortionist

With a Modus Operandi of the attrition from 1966

Shut your mouth, watch the television, buy what your sold

Milgrim showed that you'll carry out whatever you're told

We order a massacre to clear our way to search for gold

And years later the gold comes back to massacre our soul

If you want the diamonds on your sole, do what Simon said

But if you step out of line then you'll have a neck without a head

And you'll be laying dead on the ground, eaten by bed bugs

Forgotten, another one subject to murder by the lead studs

You can have hope, but you'll be reaching for the green light

You can worship a pope, but you'll be subject to gods spite

You can read exodus, you can read the stories in the bible

But It sounds manacle that the burning bush's guide is reliable

But you can live, you can live your own life

I'm not judging your views like the man in the light

With all the sinners in a flame, the righteous in the sky

Now Tell me, what will be my name be when I roll over and die?