Don't you want to know the truth about dishonorable discharge?
For that special one-gun slaute to the fellow N.R.A. holes

Yada yada yada yada
Plaster every sore

A question for you my self proclaimed profit, are you angry?
Now you can go from cocaine onto Rogaine in 2.5 seconds
So become your very own post-civilized, flawless, best friend

Microprocessor upon microprocessor upon microprocessor upon microprocessor

Dear fools and barbarians why don't you ask yourself if you can still recall the Alamo
In this botched blitzkrieg of drive-through culture and sweaty cadaver driven vessels

So call it a lifestyle, but it's really a filthy fucking traffic jam in
Disguise...
And you won't say shit even if your mouth is full of it