every day we are force fed with compiling stressnnbut not a single worry will ever cross mennchoices mean vices we all have our thingnnthe party's in session so crown me the kingnndo you like to lose control?nnsex, drugs, and death metalnnfill out the form and sign belownnwhat the fuck is up?nnwhen everybody fucking talks shitnneverybody fucking talks shitnnyeah were gonna break it down like nobody ever has beforenncuz were young and fucked up, poppin da blunts up, high in the dirty southnnuntil the breath is taken from my lungsnni'll be spittin a fat-track attack like a rapper on cracknnlies gargle through my veinsnnminds start to go insanennwhere do we put the blame?nnemotion is just a fucking gamennpieces are shatterednnnone of this matterednndisregard the fine printnnoh its apparent, havent you figured us out by now?nnwhere my bitches? havent you figured us out by now?