Ism.
Fith.
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I'm a brain-dead God on a cowards throne A psychotic mind with an iron throat I'm a master, rhetoric A known heretic Try all you want but you're never gonna get this I'm the face of a pop-queen killer A scumfuck fiend, I'm a no dollar biller I'm the monster that's under your bed So why is it you're scared of what you don't understand? I am the prophet I am the forefront I'm the worm of a fascist construct I am the hated I am the nascent I'm fucking the system I've got a fist with five middle fingers Blood red eyes like I share the devils last name Mind gone, I never had it in the first place I lust for the heart I lack I sold my soul and I'll never get it back I'm an industry death threat I've tried my best and I ain't dead yet This is an Ode to a sickness Cause this is, survival of the wicked I feel a little six, six, sick and I don't know why you're asking for silence I'm bringing you violence Is this not what you asked for? You want something but this ain't it I'm an industry death threat I've tried my best and I ain't dead yet This is an Ode to a sickness Cause this is, survival of the wicked Cause this is, survival of the wicked
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"Ism. Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 7 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/5069361/Fith./Ism.>.
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