[Intro]
God fucking damn it
Uhhhhh…FUCK (puking noise)
(pops soda tab)
Uh…(Belch)
Let’s see who we can fuck with today...

[Verse 1: BKnitts]
Today I woke up with some hatred on my conscience.
Probably just some leftovers from yesterday’s barrages.
Can I brush it off? Nah, that’d be crazy. That’d be nonsense.
I’ma post it on a song and hope creatives get responsive.
I love making making digs and throwing flags on the internet.
Twiddling my thumbs and fucking praying that my shit is read.
As I rub my gut and take a drag of this cigarette.
I’m barely getting started, sparking flames for your interest.
And honestly, I’d love to be outside,
Except the oxygen’s too pure, and all the sunlight hurts my eyes.
And everybody that I see is either confident or kind.
Man, that shit’s so fucking whack to me. Fuck it, back inside, uh.
Nappy-headed. Every night is like the weekend.
Drunk alone and writing with the slightest bit of pretense.
Scoping with the keyboard, wonder who my type gon’ reach next.
Trying to make a splash, send ‘em right off of the deep end.
Stopping dicks. I’m a Peter Parker when I’m on the web.
Bet I’m spidering and weaving hatred in these comment threads.
The common threat. Destroying anything expressive.
Especially if you’re proud of it, and I can tell you meant it.
(Clears throat, spits) Hocking loogies on your proudest moments.
Thumbing down that newest song and video you’re out promoting.
Words are ammunition, got my trigger fingers ‘bout to blow it.
Profoundly throwing all the heart and soul from out these poets.
No good motherfucker, cynical, and deep.
Got no work to call my own, can’t be critical of me.
Born from out the cauldron, parasitic with the creed.
I’m just tryna piss you off and make you miserable like me.
Fuck you.

[Bridge]
Hey you piece of shit, give me that fucking microphone.
Get the fuck out of the way.

[Verse 2: Eske]
Welcome to the basement in my parent’s house. (Damn right)
It’s where I spend my days, wile venom spews from out my mouth.
Lurking on these forums, it’s so boring so I think I’ll spout
All this pent resentment out to fan the flame of your self doubt
No need to pout, little bitch, I’m just your average loser,
Boozing til I hate myself, projecting on a youtube user,
All up in your DMs and your head cuz I’m a tumor.
It’s amazing how crazy I get you just with my computer, hah.
Think you’re a trooper? Shit, well I’m the shooter.
And I’ll do it all to make sure you won’t ever have a future.
Cuz in high school, I was king, everybody loved my humor.
But really I’m just an asshole, a gifted artist abuser, uh.
So I’ll just continue with living in the past,
Making parody accounts, tryna tarnish all your craft.
Take you and your aspirations out like they were trash.
Steady bashing every passion that you had the nerve to flash.
There’s left but ash once your dreams go up in flames.
I’m a serial arsonist dumping ether on your brain.
And with the slightest spark, feelings blaze and cause you pain.
It won’t ever fucking stop til your will’s completely drained, uh.
Yo, but truthfully, the problem here is me.
When I look into the mirror, man, it’s pretty clear to see.
I’m so fucking insecure, feeling smaller than a pea.
And I hope my ego grows with every damn demeaning deed,
So feel free to take me head on if you ever want to dare.
If you’re arguing with logic, you’re already in my snare.
I’m out to kill your purpose, and nobody will be spared.
Making everybody hate me, but I’ve never really cared.
Pussy.