Svicide Statistik

[Intro]
Blunt Christ beats

[Verse 1: Mortis Grimm]
Look into the mirror, my reflection starts to speak in tongues
Pop a Perc and slit my wrists, fall to the floor, I'm going numb
Thinking 'bout my son as my body weakens from the crimson that is leaking
Breathing slows and heart stops beating, fuck
Knuckles bloody cause I've been banging on Heaven's door
But they won't let me in because my soul's become deformed
Instead of happiness I chose to live a life of gore
Now another statistic laying in the fucking morgue

[Interlude]
Blunt Christ beats

[Verse 2: Ware-Wolff]
Lie awake, you can't take it
Day break with inner-most hatred
It's like sedation with pain and anguish, continuous frustration
Like your mind is in a cage and down a sickness form of deadly arts
A chained and sacred heart, I love your motherfucking body parts
Falling apart inside with memories floating up, dearly departed
Screaming in silence along with the suffering, yeah, but they're mentally scarred and
Enter the stages of no returning in that room full of sadness
And mourning, you're drowning in misery
Answer the unanswered questions of why your life ever even started