I'm untouchable
Sixteen ways to die, but I'd rather just cut your throat
Unlovable
Bred through hate, product of date rape but you can't wait to cremate
I take lives with steak knives and such
I leave so many cuts that there's nothin left to touch
And I walk with the family mind set on casualty
I put mirrors in ya eyes so ya had to see
That it had to be a mass suicide at your gathering
What a catastrophe
Front page, blame it on us
Scapegoat for all, in Twiztid we trust
In the tour bus headed for the white house lawn
I can only be the scapegoat for so long
You can clear bongs while I clear channels
Live show is sick like cups of brain matter