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Song Lyrics
Puppet on a string
What do you bring, nothing
Everybodies looking for a quick buck
And buffin the dick of the powers that be
Not 28d, conplacency is not my style
As you can see, fuck it that's not me
It's like every time I turn on the box
I gotta watch another
Manufactured band that sucks cock
Gotta listen to suckers who
Don't know diddley squat
Dance steps in their reps
And no props go out to slop
It's not fresh
I got my shit down on the road
Shoot yourself in the foot when you're
Talkin out your sphincter, boy
Just another toy
And climbing out of the box
You don't write shit but you're convinced
Your shit rocks
Now you don't write nothing
Leave it up to your puppeteers
You better hope it sells now
Cause give it two years
Another humdurm throw away
Is what it becomes
A massive debt that someones got to pay
At the end of the short day
Can't sell a record because
You're so wak
You could sell your soul
Can't deal with the payback
Album
 Kill The FakeMore music by 28 Days
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| 28 Days Song Lyrics - Kill The Fake |
