I’m a sick cynic; no clinic can ever cure this cold These bootlick limerick rappers young and old Don’t speak passion, it’s cars, swag, fashion, and gold They speak not for themselves; they let their soul be sold
They’ve been told and fed lies so their ego could burst Expecting nothing but good and not preparing for the worst Every verse and curse; that shit they spit and rehearsed Quenched their lust for the fame, but left unquenchable thirst
Expecting to be first in a message of 420 Greed, weed, roll the dice for ice, that’s nice money These cats’re whack and every track is funny I guess it’s true when you say you get more flies with honey
I guess it’s true these cats use every lie and trick And abuse and cartoon this little rap gimmick They quickly pick a click and attempt to be slick And if I’m ill for hating this, then I’d rather be sick
[Hook]
I’m a sick kitten; every written bar’s a curse I try to get better but end up worse and worse Everything I dispense, every rhyme and verse Leaves me tense, riddled up and mind perverse
I'm a sick kitten, and I only want more I'm the aftermath of every sin my father bored Scourge of the lore my ancestor’s stored Hell-bound soul soar underneath the floor
I’m a sick kitten I’m a sick kitten
[Sickness]
I'm the weak-willed worm antidotes can't purge The burn that I feel giving into the urge I yearn for what's real, but guilt start to surge quick Blood like an oil spill, inside of my head's Sick
Sick and misguided, majority dark side In it is confided the lore of ill archives Finite and scarred, my heart's like bark hide And grace is a far cry, I failed from the start, I
Don't really care why things happened this way Yearly elected captain of the Faggot Brigade And I've had it today; I don't care what they say I'd rather be a real failure than fakely okay?
I'm the necro with a habit of encountering graveyards Hit the rich crypts, like my dick was a radar Bitches start to flock ‘cause they know that I pay hard I'm chillin’ at the top, while you're stuck at a gay bar