Vanilla Paste - Chelsea Grin, Fire From The Gods, Tallah

I said I’m never living like this

Here we go, heat the knife

— Maybe end up dead

Notice, everyone’s a little red

Could it be?

Could it be?

Could it be that you faked it just to push a narrative?

Hide your kids, hide your wife

I’m about to play God

I’ve made a lot of enemies

And I want their heads

Eat up!

O' here comes another full-course meal!

You’ll be fine

(Eat it up)

Playin' God, Imma' act a heathen

The bastard child and the non-believer

I ain’t gonna' lie;

I get mad, but then I get even

But I keep it’a movin'

Bobbin' and weavin'

You can’t touch me

I’m a slugger swingin' - I stay on my king shit

Louisville City made like an Ali hit

I see you through the screen, seethin'

I can’t stand how you' still on that poor, pitiful me bit

They say success is the best revenge

But honestly, I still wish that you’d stop fuckin' breathin'

Your bitter bitchin' but I’m back and better

Yeah — Some shoot to kill, now I’m aimin' to maim 'em to death

Done shovelin' shit;

you can go shove this here—bitch

I’ve gotten used to shoveling crap

Hide your kids, hide your wife

I’m about to play God

If I gave you wiggle-room

Would you make amends?

Eat up!

O' here comes another full-course meal!

You’ll be fine

'Cause dead men don’t vomit

And you’ve all come so damn far!

There’s no need to call a cab back home

You’ll be fine

Tell them again

They think I’m breaking in silence

I’m just contemplating violence

So sick of the bullshit, so sick of all of this hatred

Can’t take all the noise

I make the choice

When all I have is my fucking voice

By now, you should know

That I’ve had enough of your boot on my neck

I’ve had enough

Well, I find myself sitting in the corner

Contemplating what Hell looks like through these eyes

Well, I can’t imagine Heaven looks any different

From the Hell that’s our life

Our life

So sick of pain

So sick of the paranoia

Sick of the rage

Sick of looking in the mirror

Seeing myself—a manmade horror—horror

Like a fly, you’re so full of shit

Everyone’s a little red

Everyone’s a little red

Everyone’s a little red and so full of shit

Crippled—corrupt

— That's all they are

But wait!

You’ll get what your heart cried for

Eat up!

O' here comes another full-course meal!

You’ll be fine

'Cause dead men don’t vomit

And you’ve all come so damn far!

There’s no need to call a cab back home

You’ll be fine

Everyone’s a little red

Everyone’s a little red

Everyone’s a little red

Until they show how they feel

Feel

Spew, I spew forth blades

Just to get 'em out

Just to get 'em out

Just to get 'em out

I know it’s for the better if you just step aside

Retching, pleading

Trying to spit up what I’m holding deep inside

Are you famished?

Are you famished?

Are you famished?