Techs with the leather grips, especially on nights to send a message with
It spin your head like the exorcist, bring the reverends in
I pray my soul to rest, leash these demons that I tether with
Either I pray to god, or fire from the bushes like the book of Exodus
The henny sip got me euthanized, the trenches where we do or die
Heroine overdoses put too many in that suit & tie
You know the drill, they come off the benches looking for shooting time
The fiends form a base line, the traps be running suicides