This is the soundtrack to kill your stepfather

Leave the faggot unconscious and douse him in Goldschlager

Light the match, now kick him till he holler

Kick him harder, he only had forty dollars

Jump in your moms whip your face dripping

Leave the tabs alone, no such thing as safe tripping

Bumps of K help explain what's inside you

Look in the rear-view, he's still dragging behind you

Pull it over, you skidded off half his shoulder

Pouring rain you can still smell the blood odour

Think of all the shit he put your mom through

He's half dead, it's already starting to calm you

Tell him to bite the curb then kick till it's heard

Read the papers nerd, stepfather massacred

Start to laugh, you know it's alright

Cause when they questioned your moms you was sleeping all night



Three in the chest, I saw him drop

The only time that I ever called him pop

Two in his back while he's dead on the ground

One more in the head because he made a little sound

Ran out of bullets so I used the blade

Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS

Better call home because I'll be late for supper

Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker



Cut school cause you like fuck school

Mom fuck you, I'll throw you into a truck too

Keep my drugs, I can sneak in more

Let's all go rob my stepfather's sneaker store

I got the codes and pluis the new shocks in

Nobody's watching so jail ain't an option

Fuck trust, tried to kill my family twice

Stupid mother fuckers trying to raise an anti-christ

I steal from the bitch that shit me in the ditch

And plot the death of the fag that said he'd make her rich

In dish washing gloves, anger starts to flood

At gun point, got mom wrapping the carcus up

See through stab wounds, a barbeque at dad's tomb

Barbeque chicken, I can tell mom is glad too

Meet you in the car, rolled the haze

Rubbing my full stomach while I pissed on his grave



Three in the chest, I saw him drop

The only time that I ever called him pop

Two in his back while he's dead on the ground

One more in the head because he made a little sound

Ran out of bullets so I used the blade

Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS

Better call home because I'll be late for supper

Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker



Put me on a pins petition, man listen

My mom might slip in your blood and die in the kitchen

My hands itching to push the blade then my fist in

Pop out your back knocking your spine out of position

Parts missing while they scoop you off the ground

The class clown ready to pull the mask down

Empty the gun, then it's time to reload

Mapping out his murder, pissing for my P.O

Get home, he's on the couch running his mouth

Walked up to him and put his own gun in his mouth

His mouth painted the wall, he's still standing waiting to fall

Heard a car pull up, I shoud've stayed at the mall

But I'm sick of getting treated like a god damn step child