A Fête Worse Than Death

Rock this shotgunRock this shotRock this shotgunRock this shotRock this shotgunRock this shotTelevision, my teacherConfessor and preacherMy bibleMy bileTalk show and trialYou're wet, I'm wildFor your shilling, I'm willingTune in your lips and burning breathMy fête worse than deathHe thinks he's badAin't got no planRock this shotgun up his motherfuckin' assHe thinks he's badAin't got no planRock this shotgun up his motherfuckin' assRock this shotgunRock this shotRock this shotgun up his motherfucking assRock this shotgunRock this shotRock this shotgun up his motherfucking assMy profit, my pusherMy faker, my hookerA little praise, it's astoundingIn for a penny and I get a poundingThrough all the drinksMy vision shrinks and drowns this fifeThat slowly sinksHe thinks he's badAin't got no planRock this shotgun up his motherfuckin' assHe thinks he's badAin't got no planRock this shotgun up his motherfuckin' assRock this shotgunRock this shotRock this shotgun up his motherfucking assRock this shotgunRock this shotRock this shotgun up his motherfucking ass