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lirik lagu critic – bknitts

[intro]
god f-cking d-mn it
uhhhhh…f-ck (puking noise)
(pops tab)
uh…(belch)
let’s see who we can f-ck with today…

[verse 1: bknitts]
today i woke up with some hatred on my conscience
probably just some leftovers from yesterday’s barrages
can i brush it off? nah, that’d be crazy. that’d be nonsense
i’ma post it on a song and hope creatives get responsive
i love making making digs and throwing flags on the internet
twiddling my thumbs and f-cking praying that my sh-t is read
as i rub my gut and take a drag of this cigarette
i’m barely getting started, sparking flames for your interest
and honestly, i’d love to be outside
except the oxygen’s too pure, and all the sunlight hurts my eyes
and everybody that i see is either confident or kind
man, that sh-t’s so f-cking whack to me. f-ck it, back inside, uh
nappy-headed. every night is like the weekend
drunk alone and writing with the slightest bit of pretense
scoping with the keyboard, wonder who my type gon’ reach next
trying to make a splash, send ‘em right off of the deep end
stopping d-cks. i’m a peter parker when i’m on the web
bet i’m spidering and weaving hatred in these comment threads
the common threat. destroying anything expressive
especially if you’re proud of it, and i can tell you meant it
(clears throat, spits) hocking loogies on your proudest moments
thumbing down that newest song and video you’re out promoting
words are ammunition, got my trigger fingers ‘bout to blow it
profoundly throwing all the heart and soul from out these poets
no good motherf-cker, cynical, and deep
got no work to call my own, can’t be critical of me
born from out the cauldron, parasitic with the creed
i’m just tryna p-ss you off and make you miserable like me
f-ck you

[bridge]
hey you piece of sh-t, give me that f-cking microphone
get out of the way

[verse 2: eske]
welcome to the bas-m-nt in my parent’s house. (d-mn right)
it’s where i spend my days, wile venom spews from out my mouth
lurking on these forums, it’s so boring so i think i’ll spout
all this pent resentment out to fan the flame of your self doubt
no need to pout, little b-tch, i’m just your average loser
boozing til i hate myself, projecting on a youtube user
all up in your dms and your head cuz i’m a tumor
it’s amazing how crazy i get you just with my computer, hah
think you’re a trooper? sh-t, well i’m the shooter
and i’ll do it all to make sure you won’t ever have a future
cuz in high school, i was king, everybody loved my humor
but really i’m just an -ssh0l-, a gifted artist abuser, uh
so i’ll just continue with living in the past
making parody accounts, tryna tarnish all your craft
take you and your aspirations out like they were trash
steady bashing every p-ssion that you had the nerve to flash
there’s left but ash once your dreams go up in flames
i’m a serial arsonist dumping ether on your brain
and with the slightest spark, feelings blaze and cause you pain
it won’t ever f-cking stop til your will’s completely drained, uh
yo, but truthfully, the problem here is me
when i look into the mirror, man, it’s pretty clear to see
i’m so f-cking insecure, feeling smaller than a pea
and i hope my ego grows with every d-mn demeaning deed
so feel free to take me head on if you ever want to dare
if you’re arguing with logic, you’re already in my snare
i’m out to k!ll your purpose, and n0body will be spared
making everybody hate me, but i’ve never really cared
p-ssy

- bknitts

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