Oh yeah, bitch, I'm gonna remember your face, your name, your number
Rotator cuff hyper extends behind my back
But what is he laughing at?
Ribs cracking beneath a rain of
Sticks and heels falling down like the rain outside
There was nothing padded about a wagon full of mace
Feel youth crushed somewhere between concrete and boot
You are not my God, you think this is funny, don't you, pig?
Another victim of the lower hate
How the helpless freak squirms beneath our state sanctioned soles
And when I crawl out of this hole I'm going to make you all mine