Self Titled

by RoboTrash

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1.
02:27
2.
02:28
3.
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5.
6.

credits

released March 18, 2014

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RoboTrash Atlanta, Georgia

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Track Name: Humane Race
Hey everybody, please kill yourselves.
Slit your wrists or put a gun in your mouth.
Take some gasoline and set yourself on fire,
or put a truck in neutral and your head under the tire.

Pretend it's a game of Simon Says,
litter the planet with your corpses.
Capture it all on a video recorder so future civilizations can see how cool we were.
Track Name: Heshell
Your choice in women is suspect again,
hauling more trash than a garbage man.
The younger, the easier to impress.
...Whatever gets your ego wet.

Deductive skills are non-existent,
but make the girls call you Detective Dick.
The man-juice you produce is so damn thick,
the sex crimes you commit are bound to stick.

Your victimized personality is like your date because it's deceased.
Women assaulted and violated,
because you're battery operated.

You're like those athletes from Steubenville High;
the only thing you deserve is to die.
The filth you say, you think is so profound.
Please use a shotgun to wash out your mouth.
Track Name: Just Talkin' To My Mirror
You think you're really creepy with your death threats.
You're about as subtle as a train wreck.
Your life's about to hit rock bottom,
because I strangle dickheads like condoms.

You talk more shit than a proctologist,
but you'll be smelling my farts, if you catch my drift.
I got a feeling your ego is gonna be hurt,
when I make your face look like Roger Ebert's.

It's for the ladies, but your sleveless shirts ain't working.
You don't have Parkinson's, but you'll still be jerking.
Lucky if they don't kick you in the balls.
You'll be getting off easy like Rohypnol.

When you wake up in the hospital early tomorrow,
you'll be getting more shots than Amadou Diallo.
I'm dangerous and without a care,
like doing the hokey pokey when walking up the stairs.
Track Name: Upstanding Citizen
You're like a fast food sandwich, gonna give me a heart attack,
when I see all that mayonnaise seeping out the cracks.
I'm gonna plunge deep inside like rotorooter.
You're modern technology, a high end cumpooter.
I'm a construction worker, gotta fill those holes,
but I'm not a miner, I don't want your lumps of coal.
I'm not a doctor, but you'll need insurance policies,
screaming olly olly oxen free from your colonoscopy.

I know why the caged bird cries,
he saw your flaps spread and try to fly.
They droop to the ground in no small part.
When I drink your lemonade it'll be under your tarp.

My mouth's an ashtray 'cause it's full of butts,
and you're spreading your cheeks 'cause it's time for lunch.
My only request when I get down on my knees,
is that I'm not extra hungry, so no cottage cheese, please.
Your crippled lower half can't feel.
You call it a handicap, I call it meals on wheels.
Don't throw away the scraps, I eat leftovers all the time.
So, that junk smeared on your panties will soon be mine.

When you puke on my dick, there's a delectable thickness,
you can only get from a lady with morning sickness.
You're in love with being glazed in my semen.
It's a nice day for a white wetting.

This leash wasn't intended for a walk in the park.
Even though you're a dog, I don't wanna hear you bark.
Just 'cause you're dead don't mean I can't still have a blast.
Just call me Marty McFly because I'm stuck in the passed.
Track Name: Me & My Trucker Hat
Don't listen to me 'cause I'm stupid as fuck.
My thoughts get as much mileage as a pickup truck.
But, you better watch your ass when it comes time to dance.
On the floor, they call me Mr. Pussy Party Pizza Pants.
My dick has a talking head; he's a real live wire,
the original space heater, he'll set you on fire.
When he burns down your house and pitches a tent,
I'm gonna fuck your face like a motorcycle accident.

You don't like it when I'm spying on you while you're on the toilet, but I guess you'll make do.
Can't help it, got an itch I can't scratch.
That flare of herpes must be coming back.
You got the gift that keeps on giving 'cause you're the grand prize winner.
You're a dirty carnivore and know that beef is what's for dinner.

Holy shit, woman, you're a fucking cow,
shooting milk all over the house.
You need to put a stop to that shit right now.
This wasn't what I was thinking when you made me your spouse.
You have a habit of deflating my scrotum.
When we have sex, you sound like a 56K modem.
...neurotic woman tried to lock me in her box again.
Get out of here Stalker, you don't need any more sausages.

Before the relationship started to go south,
it was all Boom Shakalaka, lotta cock in your mouth.
We're allergic to birth control; you got pregnant and fat.
so you threw yourself down the stairs for your final attack.
We said goodbye to Chad Jr. in the bathroom stall,
so we could afford marijuana and tramadol.
The fetus crawled around the floor, it had come back to life,
holding a knife and about to commit a double homicide.
Track Name: I'll Just Excuse Myself
Social pariah till the day I die.
You know I'm not lion 'cause I got no pride.
Just call me hopscotch 'cause I can't seem to make it one step outside.
Think I just heard the doorbell ring... time to hide.

You can call me Billie Joe when I come around,
to being washed up.