Smackola - Syndrome of the Al Qaeda Sand Spider [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1]
You might think I'm crazy, but I'm insane
Nothing but darkness running through my veins
The hunger pains, of extreme violence
I suffered from the virus not knowing science
First I got the twitch, then I got the itch
Then I felt the temptation to start killin' shit
And my brain analysis, is pure malice
An instrumental is chemical with a bad balance
This is target practice, leave they ribs split
Fully loaded chopper automatics with extended clips
I'm 'bout to start some shit, so don't tempt me
Things ain't what they seem, my thoughts are empty
This feeling in me, got me so diseased
I'm so far gone they call it brain-freeze
Make 'em aim and squeeze, until they cease fire
Syndrome of the Al Qaeda Sand Spider

[Hook]
Higher, higher
The Al Qaeda Sand Spider
Higher, higher
Syndrome of the Al Qaeda Sand Spider
I'm like a soldier at war, lost in the zone
Going hard cause I might not be coming home
Mind gone, still spittin' hot fire
Syndrome of the Al Qaeda Sand Spider

[Verse 2]
Wake up, go to UT, with a AK
Blow my brains out *blow*
Have a nice day!
This is a celebration, to show my dedication
Suicide note, this is my final statement
I'm sick, demented, slight schizophrenic
Never know what I might do, I might end it
Stop pretending, like it's all peaceful
And mix me up some of that Medieval
Two Desert Eagles, two shots tequila
One fifty-one, the Devil's Margarita
Raise my heart meter, two and a half liters
Light this bitch up, and blow them all to pieces
Dirty WormZ, we live, we world-wide
Fifteen minutes of fame, watch me burn alive
2025, I'm diagnosed
If there's no cure, then there's no hope
The Syndrome

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Momma, please forgive me, but I couldn't cope
Did the best I could, but can't take no more
What am I living for? It's either death or jail
My girl told me to go to hell, I might as well
Don't nobody love me, my friends talk about me
Seems like the world is better off without me
Now it's all about me, today is my day
I'll make 9/11 look like a holiday
I ain't got nothing to lose, cause I ain't got nothing
Suicidal depression gon' make me start dumping
And start hunting, nothing but human beings
X 'em out like Malcolm, by any means
Time is running out, and I'm stressed out
Can't turn back now, this is my way out
I got my cake and candles lit, to blow them out
Happy death-day to me, and then I'm going out
The Syndrome

[Hook]