Divorced

Are you really gonna kiss my floor, son Are you really gonna keep me a fighter Are you really gonna get my shoes off Are you really gonna get my Chinza I've had enough Let them pretend I have a dorsal This is him and there's a siren turnin' And holds a dark'nin' center And your death will profit off me And I'm goin' and I'm goin' and goin' and I'm runnin' I'm goin. I went away And nothin' violent passed my fist And the tomatoe just gone to peel fruit And none of me remember all or nothing They had to understamp us I've got a church bomb and a download And don't forget y'all to run away Agree to the thing now that you'd never say Let them pretend I have a dorsal This is him and there's a siren turnin' And holds a dark'nin' center And I know that I'm runnin' hard "...What about Ryan?" "I believe he lost the number for that girl he met down here." "Oh, Adam said she's a beauty." "Is she the one that had that fucked-up voice?" "Is she a Rocket Scientist?" "She's the one that sounds like the fuckin'... she has a voice like a fuckin' modem, dude." "Ha-ha! Sounds perfect!" "Rooaaaagaharyandaasjhrydaaaafcabym?!" "He he he!" "When he got the work up there, you know Ryan, he gets all into work and he's prepared to like, forget that he has a dick."