I'm in the cut with bloody knuckles Irony, sight for sore eyes to see Least likely to like to leave Lie to me (lie to me) Tell me that I'm good and misunderstood Cause the fear (the fear) is frightening And I don't want to be judged I don't want to be judged I don't want to be judged
So tell me where the hugs at? Fuck where the drugs at? I'm dying(dying) and you're not crying (crying) (louder) I'm tired of feeling sour Fuck the power, and whoever on it Cause I murder and re-up on it
I wanna see his mother sob "Why?", body hunched over his coffin Like, "Why did it go so quick? Why did that clip slip and make his lip drip bright red?"
I'm feeling nauseous Vomit up chunks of check mix and light brunch Cause I found out the only virgin here was fruit punch So what was the point of even blowing up Rolling up, getting blown and such But never ever ever ever ever ever (grip the cup)
I guess it's just a myth of song Call them easter bunts I'm sick of making friends Sick of making amends I'm sick of women (women) thinking that I owe them (true) You got your vowels screwed Fuck am I to do When the message misconstrued And I end up in the noose For something I didn't do
So fuck you I'm done talking I don't want to be judged I don't want to be judged So tell me where the hugs at Fuck where the drugs at I'm dying (dying) and your not crying (crying) I'm tired of feeling sour Fuck the power And whoever on it
I don't want to be judged //(all the time a lot)//