(Intro)
/ I love a menthol cigarette/ I'm pretty simple actually/ Sex, Nicotine,& A Microphone/ Content with being alone, as long as there’s music/ My friends in a cipher critiquing self indulgent trends/ It provides a means to an end/ Down with industry and the players involved/ But if it falls, what's left to bitch about?/How about each other, but that's too easy/ I'm too self-righteous and obsessed with sleazy/ Maybe I'll rediscover context/ Maybe I'll take another bong rip and laugh at Glen Beck/

(Verse 1)
Live from a state that is redder than yours/ Trying to find something subjective in The Cure/ One Blink record away from getting Pompous/ Cutting all my hair off, maybe running for office/ Fashion a cheap pipe, enroll in college/ Start a Panther chapter and distribute some knowledge/ Talk about my hate for whitey, though I'm Caucasian/ Bereft of self-loathing, bitch I'm amazing/ Twenty-three, attitude, and nothing to offer/ Except a dope rhyme and misdemeanor charges/ Defaulted debt and my guise as an artist/ Eyes full of arson and the prize of regarded/ First my city, my state, and then maybe my region/ Such a tall order for god-less heathen/ Not much left but the honest reason/ I can't promise much, but I promise Stephen/

(Hook)
In a haze of love and hate, I feel the lesser/ Tell me life's a bitch, my goal's to undress her/ Talk her into sex, then fuck her on the dresser/ This here is my catharsis/
*repeat once*
(This here is my catharsis)

(Verse 2)
/If I go over your head, I'm sorry your stupid/ Maybe pick up book, maybe you use it/ Insult the people, that's helluva tactic/ Son check the tape, Crocker Is A Bastard/ I think I'm Bobby Seale, Huey Newton/ Fake Larry Hoovers are just Looney Tunesin/ I say, where the hell is a movement/
/Tweet: Feeling used and unusually lucid/ Remember looking up to Hogan and M.J./ Now I'm an asshole and their disciples of Bengay/ Student of the game but I'm lacking a sensei/ With a pen so moody you would swear that it menstruate/ Apple Pie Hooch & a carton of Mavericks/ The label of G.O.A.T., and beside it an asterisk/ Hope they speak of me even when I'm in past tense/ Be a lot of things but never your average/

(Hook)
In a haze of love and hate, I feel the lesser/ Tell me life's a bitch, my goal's to undress her/ Talk her into sex, then fuck her on the dresser/ This here is my catharsis/
*repeat once*
(This here is my catharsis)