The bottom, yes, child
His mother ran comfortable
Her son go dance with the devil
Half a life miserable
Murderer
When Mickey gets a call
You and your big M-16 is getting out of control
Slaughterer
This is written on the scrolls
The slaying of your brother is a sentence to yourself
Murderer
You kill a man, you're bald
You look for mercy when there is it in you