Lyrics Manson. Dahmer. Bundy. - Z. Smith

Honest intentions have flooded my inner headspace
Draining only through filters, producing deadweight
Words that lack value with honor stripped from their thread rate
Sheets with no coverage - desire reduced by red tape
Wrapped around my neck 'til I'm blue & seeing yellow spots
Every now and then an honest breath connects the dots
Slowly revealing a picture that friends don't wanna see
They type of image that strangers would fuckin' love of me
A site so twisted and wicked it's like a gift to the people
A splash of evil that's needed to get some love, grab the needle
And pump that shit in my veins, see the conceit and deceitful
Behavior won't ever change, 'til the injection is lethal
'Cause I gotta kill - go & spin the wheel
Grab a girl like '80's Vanna, steal her vowels
Make her "O" in heels
Seven deadly sins keep me alive, finally make me feel a rise
Like the strippers out in Vegas when the ass is real

To my vices I'm not victim
I love 'em more than I should
Diagnosed with devilish little symptoms
If I'm not sick then it could be inner wisdom
But by now you oughtta know - on the low
I'm always up to no good

(Good, good, good, good, good...)
I'm always up to no good
(No good, no good)
(No good, no good)
To my vices I'm no victim (no victim)
I love 'em more than I should
All my people oughtta know on the low
I'm always up to no good

On the surface I resemble a group of familiar infamy
Charles, Jeffrey and Theodore saved a seat for me
A common face, capable of skillfully
Acquiring a following though I've chosen to act viciously

(To my vices I'm no victim, I love 'em more than I should)
(Diagnosed with with devilish little symptoms]
Yes, I am impulsive - yes, I am the culprit
Of multiple acts of gambling and drinking
It's how I'm sculpted
My statue will be made with a glass of Johnny Walker
Cigar up in my mouth and a finger outstretched to offer
The single final fuck that was given from yours truly
Half of a peace sign to explain that you never knew me
How could you? I never told you
How would you? I'd never show you
But should you? Probably not - I'm sly as a damn fox
And cold as polar bear whose been chilling in wet socks
Engaging in such schemes that are bad for my well being
But what you call poison is oil to my machine
Like bleach blondes, brown liquor and dastardly dirty deeds
I mean -

To my vices I'm not victim
I love 'em more than I should
Diagnosed with devilish little symptoms
If I'm not sick then it could be inner wisdom
But by now you oughtta know - on the low
I'm always up to no good

(Good, good, good, good, good...)
I'm always up to no good
(No good, no good)
(No good, no good)
To my vices I'm no victim (no victim)
I love 'em more than I should
All my people oughtta know on the low
I'm always up to no good

On the surface I resemble a group of familiar infamy
Charles, Jeffrey and Theodore saved a seat for me
A common face, capable of skillfully
Acquiring a following though I've chosen to act viciously

To my vices I'm not victim
I love 'em more than I should
Diagnosed with devilish little symptoms
If I'm not sick then it could be inner wisdom
But by now you oughtta know - on the low
I'm always up to no good