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    Cage / Lyrics

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    "The Soundtrack" Lyrics

    Cage

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    Lyrics

    This is the soundtrack to kill your stepfather
    Leave the faggot unconscious and douse him in Goldschlager
    Light the match, now kick him till he holler
    Kick him harder, he only had forty dollars
    Jump in your moms whip your face dripping
    Leave the tabs alone, no such thing as safe tripping
    Bumps of K help explain what's inside you
    Look in the rear-view, he's still dragging behind you
    Pull it over, you skidded off half his shoulder
    Pouring rain you can still smell the blood odour
    Think of all the shit he put your mom through
    He's half dead, it's already starting to calm you
    Tell him to bite the curb then kick till it's heard
    Read the papers nerd, stepfather massacred
    Start to laugh, you know it's alright
    Cause when they questioned your moms you was sleeping all night

    Three in the chest, I saw him drop
    The only time that I ever called him pop
    Two in his back while he's dead on the ground
    One more in the head because he made a little sound
    Ran out of bullets so I used the blade
    Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS
    Better call home because I'll be late for supper
    Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker

    Cut school cause you like fuck school
    Mom fuck you, I'll throw you into a truck too
    Keep my drugs, I can sneak in more
    Let's all go rob my stepfather's sneaker store
    I got the codes and pluis the new shocks in
    Nobody's watching so jail ain't an option
    Fuck trust, tried to kill my family twice
    Stupid mother fuckers trying to raise an anti-christ
    I steal from the bitch that shit me in the ditch
    And plot the death of the fag that said he'd make her rich
    In dish washing gloves, anger starts to flood
    At gun point, got mom wrapping the carcus up
    See through stab wounds, a barbeque at dad's tomb
    Barbeque chicken, I can tell mom is glad too
    Meet you in the car, rolled the haze
    Rubbing my full stomach while I pissed on his grave

    Three in the chest, I saw him drop
    The only time that I ever called him pop
    Two in his back while he's dead on the ground
    One more in the head because he made a little sound
    Ran out of bullets so I used the blade
    Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS
    Better call home because I'll be late for supper
    Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker

    Put me on a pins petition, man listen
    My mom might slip in your blood and die in the kitchen
    My hands itching to push the blade then my fist in
    Pop out your back knocking your spine out of position
    Parts missing while they scoop you off the ground
    The class clown ready to pull the mask down
    Empty the gun, then it's time to reload
    Mapping out his murder, pissing for my P.O
    Get home, he's on the couch running his mouth
    Walked up to him and put his own gun in his mouth
    His mouth painted the wall, he's still standing waiting to fall
    Heard a car pull up, I shoud've stayed at the mall
    But I'm sick of getting treated like a god damn step child
    This song was submitted on December 3rd, 2013 and last modified on November 23rd, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © WILLIAMSON MUSIC CO.-A DIV. OF RODGERS AND HAMMERSTEIN.
    Written by Oscar Hammerstein, Richard Rodgers.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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