I am skipping to the beat of that which is sin
trying to remember how to begin to swim
in the ironic bitterness of that which I live in

Stalking the day in which I can win
when I decide to give in
'all must wither away', I say, with a quizical grin

I been reasoning the way that will lead to this defeat
trying to conjure up the hidden treat
punching the **** out of you would feel complete

I can feel the liquid splatter
and it doesn't matter
cause I have years of hate that gathered

Once we're done
i will finally be able to ***
you can be left with the hate
and for once I will feel great