Proffesional Griefers

I like the sound of the broken pieces
I like the lights that assign where she sits
We got machines but the kids got Jesus
Ought to move like we're off the namelist
God can't hear you; they will fight you
Watch them build a friend just like you
Morning sickness, XYZ
Teenage Girlfriend, EMP
Teenage Girlfriend, EMP

Gimme the sound, to see
Another world outside that's full of
All the broken things that I've made
Just give me a life to plea
Another world outside that's full of
All the awful things that are me

We like to dance but the dead go faster
Turn up the slam and barcode blaster
We want the cash or the drugs you're after
Rise up control for the mixtape master
Self correction; mass dissection
Xbox brats on in detention
Morning sickness, XYZ
Boys with bombs in MMA
Come on Lexis, them shell casings.
Photographs that I'm erasing.
Homeless bums that make you scream!
Girls with guns on LSD
Selfinfraction, mass destruction
Programmed for the final function
Tell the king; RESCUE TEAM!
Sent in from the next arcade?

Gimme the sound, to see
Another world outside that's full of
All the broken things that I've made
Just give me a life to plea
Another world outside that's full of
All the awful things that are made
Cause we are the last disease
Another broken life that's full of
All the awful things that are made
And we got the eyes to see
Another broken life that's full of
All the awful things that are made