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1ST DEGREE
Austin Carlile
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
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Translation
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One, two, three, four, five, sick, sick
Call me Mr. Wick
Hit 'em with a clip
With the President's click
There's a price, I'll write you a check
Take it to the bank
And what's an enemy?
Still fly, put the pitch into fire
When the coins have their pictures desire
Hang up your rifles back up on your walls
Where are those when the pinnacle falls?
So bury me, bury me, bury me, nah
Brick by brick, it soothes to see
Even rocks make a masterpiece
When you rock a fake priest
Take a rock to his teeth
And ha, murder me, murder me, ah
I don't care what, talk to me, rot in peace!
Take my eyes and my ears so you hear and see
That I'm, sick, sick, sick
Bury me, bury me, bury me
Bury me, bury me, bury me
Bury me, bury me, bury me
Murder me, murder me, murder me
Murder me, murder me, murder me
Murder me, murder me, murder me
Ha
Murder me with my flesh!
'Cause I'm already dead
Woke up to live, get the chisel, the flint
Turn back the clock, have a new tongue and lips
The president's dead when the president's wrecked
Bury me, where the whole world can see
No more breath in my lungs left to breathe
We all die alone one day
No genie in a bottle, bet you threw it all away
Murder me so a whole world is set free
Bury me, try to hide a light that bleeds
Prince of the Peace is a poison to people
Who lust after darkness
So try take a piece outta me
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