I don't know who you're killing, but go for the gold
I have no family other than my father who's withered and old
if you want to go after him, I suppose it's your right
but he's in a place where security's tight
you see, since 1970 he's been locked away
a sort of political prisoner with not much to say
he did nothing wrong but I'm not here to debate
it all comes down to his friends killing some bitch named Tate
he shares a cell block with Sirhan Sirhan, they make quite the duo
if you want to find him he's California state prisoner B-33920
if you really want to kill me, please do you best
many have tried, now they're all laid to rest
I deserve to die for my only true passion
which is killing motherfuckers in a most heinous fashion
the world's become dull, it's hard to get a thrill
guess I learned from dad's friends how to chase and to kill
to bathe in fire might give me the rush that I seek
but to be honest that method seems kinda weak
when I'm not out infecting the unsuspecting
I still kill in ways that are quite reflecting
the things that were done by my father's friends
many lives have been brought to their ends
by my own two hands, never a gun
being that far away just isn't any fun
you've got to feel them die, hear the death prattle
you've got to see them cry, then slay them like cattle
killing's like fucking, you've got to be close
what's the point of taking a life if you don't feel their throes?
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