Lyrics Piss King - Max Bemis

I'm the Piss King
I've lived in it for a minute
Can't even deal, less there's a fuck you clause in it
Infinite, you claim getting my skinny
Fuck self loathing, I'd rather be controlling

Piss on the press tent, bent, God sent
Pitch a tent, the effect I have on straight men
Essentially folly, you non-consensual poly
Ended up salty but you ended upon me, AH!

Everybody knows that whip cold
Nobody knows that dicks cold
Now serving that white gold, that Val Kilmer, that Bob Mould
Keep your options open I don't need a single Trojan
Yeah she keeps me housebroken, outspoken, cloud-token
I'm floating, I'm coy, I'm happy at the open dough boy in the middle
Five weeks and I'm showing
Five weeks and I'm glowing
Stanley's in I'm shroving proved
He was loping when she took off my clothing wet

If your man can't kick the fuck up
Who am I?
Wicked wicked high
Sing it with me
If your man can't kick the fuck up
Wicked high
Kick the fuck up!

Hail Mary him
This shit is like gold dust
He's a fraction of a bastard, a horcrux
Meticulous image is meant to pillage more bucks
From the billies in my city who adore trucks

No friend would've left me in the embassy
Tripping balls as I wept blood stoically
Categorically, no Morrisey
You're the himiliar, lady-killered her

Fuck every punk on tour with a mistress
If I was single you could swing from this dick, bitch
Your claims at martyrdom, we kick-started them
And like the exodus, we departed them

The departed clip a rat while he lingers
(Drew bear, gray hair cut, danced on this finger)(?)
I've done more with, these pain-riddled brains
Than you have ever done twice as fuckin' sane, that's weak!

If your man can't kick the fuck up
Who am I?
Wicked wicked high
Sing it with me
If your man can't kick the fuck up
Wicked high
Kick the fuck up!

Two world soldiers left on the beach
One's called Zach, and the other one Screech
Little lies lifted from the lungs of the leech
We won't rest till he's fucking impeached
We won't rest till he's fucking impeached