I think much like another song “Anti-Matter” (that's also on the same album as this song), this one is also is inspired by a horrifying van crash the band experienced on Nov 3, 2022. This, much like the other track, sounds like it's an extension what they shared while huddled in the wreckage, as they helped frontman Garrett Russell stem the bleeding from his head wound while he was under the temporary effects of a concussion. The track speaks of where the mind goes at the most desperate & desolate of times, when it just about slips away to all but disconnect itself, and the aftermath.
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
Guess I got a way with words, I could get away with murder
Ever heard of Asperger's? It's a rare condition
It's what you're suffering from when you simply don't care if it's an
Eighty degree day and there's no frickin' air conditioning
And you can't see b- the hair is frizzin'
'Cause you got the windows up, blaring the system in your Chevrolet Prizm
The devil ain't on a level same as him
Picture someone who revels in straight masochism
And imagine him giving an adjective an a- whooping
So bad they should put his a- in prison
A word bully, I verbally abuse verbs like he did something to me personally
Used to get bullied, so I cut class and ditch it
Now I bully rap, I'm the sh-, f- (sniff it)
Cadillac from a K Car, my a- from a hole in the ground, still can't tell 'em a-part
Came straight out the trailer park screaming
I'm proud to shop at K-Mart, and it became art
And I'm still fed up and as pissed off as they are
To this day I still get in fights with the same broad
At the same Walmart arguing over the same cart
In the middle of the aisle wylin', I don't give a f-, I don't play
B-, you think you saw this basket first?
You're a- backwards like motherf- Bob and Silent Jay
Illest sh- you could think I would say
Mind's like a pile of clay
When's the last time that you saw a villain with a cape?
Ripped a gaping hole in it, flipped out
Ripped down the drapes
Tied 'em around my neck, went down the fire escape of the Empire State
Slipped, fell straight down to the ground, splattered all over the entire state
And straight to hell, got an impaled by the gates
So Satan stuck his face in an ashtray
While I sashayed around flames with a match and I gave him the gas face
And this ain't got nothing to do with a scale
Or being g-, little f-, but by the way
Thoughts are getting darker by the day
I'm a combination of Skylar Grey, Tyler the Creator, and Violent J
It's a f- miracle to be this lyrical
Paint my face with clown make up and a smiley face, I'm insane
Every rhyme I say sons you like an ultra-violet ray
I'm sellin' hatred, buffet style, all the sh- you can eat
$11.99, so come on and pile a plate
I'm throwin' down the gauntlet to see what hell I can raise
With the rhyme I'm spittin' while I'm sh- on competition
In the meantime it's always mean time, I'm getting
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I've been a career asshole
I don't see why these people always got my back
I done said so much f- up sh-, I was born a mistake
But I was put here not by accident
I had a purpose and that purpose was to beat a beat purplish
Slaughter tracks, I done put my two dimes and a nickel in this sh-
I'm coming to get that quarter back
Like Ndamukong, the drama can build
Your mama can ask me for my autograph
'Cause that cougar's a MILF, she's the oldest trick in the book
But I sure would fall for that
You done brought a bat to a rocket launcher fight
When I get on the mic I'm a snap
Make you wish the ambulance that took me to the hospital
When I overdosed would have caught a flat
If it makes you sick to your stomach acid
Indigestion, my suggestion's Kaopectate
If it feels like I'm running away with the game
It's 'cause I am, don't speculate, spectate
All I got is d- for days and insults for decades
But I get by my wicked ways, lady you can suck a d- 'til your neck aches
Cry 'til you get puffy eyes, red faced
But I'm leaving on this jet plane
You ain't fly, you're an airhead
I'm sick of pounding a square peg in a round hole, sorry, another catchphrase
But your baggage ain't gonna fit in my storage over headspace
'Cause you just ain't big enough to fit your damaged goods
Other words, don't try to put your heart in a headcase
'Cause, baby, stable mentally, I ain't, I need my meds, I peed my bed
I'm going blind, I don't see my legs, I keep on falling down
No wonder you can't stand me, I need my cane
Someone help me, I think my face is melting
If you felt these migraines and see these maggots eat my brain
This G-I-A-N-T hole in my empty head
If you read my mind, you can see my pain
And you'd see why I be this way
Ever since I was knee high playin' with G.I. Joes
Told these h- shut their P-I-E holes, now peep my game
'Cause I'm 'bout it 'bout it
Like a f- echo (echo)
(Psych) Psycho on a cyclone cycle, spriralin', here I go
I'm out of control like no other mic go
Stab you to 'til the knife goes, dull
I'm nothing but a hole inside your skull where your eye goes
'Cause I'ma sock it to you
You don't like it?
Get on your Harley Davidson menstrual cycle and ride it like a motorbike
I'm finna blow the mic the whole night, so
Strike up the f- maestro, I'm nitro
And hi, ho, hand me my shovel
I'm liable to dig my hole deeper
And it's off to H-E double hockey sticks I go
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
Oh, please be empty, please be empty, please be empty
Oh, thank you, God
Ah
Sh-
F-
What the f-
Is that a girl?
Yeah, I'm gonna rock this blouse and put a cock in mouth and get my balls blew out
And get gay into the AM
And lay with eighteen guys naked and let myself show, let myself show
I wonder who that voice is
Buttf- it, suck it, pull it, tug it
Life's too short to not stroke your bone
F- serious?
So everybody, everybody
Jerk, touch my body
Who is that? Where you going?
Come back
Why does everyone always leave me?
Hello? F- you then
Blow it out your a-
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
Guess I got a way with words, I could get away with murder
Ever heard of Asperger's? It's a rare condition
It's what you're suffering from when you simply don't care if it's an
Eighty degree day and there's no frickin' air conditioning
And you can't see b- the hair is frizzin'
'Cause you got the windows up, blaring the system in your Chevrolet Prizm
The devil ain't on a level same as him
Picture someone who revels in straight masochism
And imagine him giving an adjective an a- whooping
So bad they should put his a- in prison
A word bully, I verbally abuse verbs like he did something to me personally
Used to get bullied, so I cut class and ditch it
Now I bully rap, I'm the sh-, f- (sniff it)
Cadillac from a K Car, my a- from a hole in the ground, still can't tell 'em a-part
Came straight out the trailer park screaming
I'm proud to shop at K-Mart, and it became art
And I'm still fed up and as pissed off as they are
To this day I still get in fights with the same broad
At the same Walmart arguing over the same cart
In the middle of the aisle wylin', I don't give a f-, I don't play
B-, you think you saw this basket first?
You're a- backwards like motherf- Bob and Silent Jay
Illest sh- you could think I would say
Mind's like a pile of clay
When's the last time that you saw a villain with a cape?
Ripped a gaping hole in it, flipped out
Ripped down the drapes
Tied 'em around my neck, went down the fire escape of the Empire State
Slipped, fell straight down to the ground, splattered all over the entire state
And straight to hell, got an impaled by the gates
So Satan stuck his face in an ashtray
While I sashayed around flames with a match and I gave him the gas face
And this ain't got nothing to do with a scale
Or being g-, little f-, but by the way
Thoughts are getting darker by the day
I'm a combination of Skylar Grey, Tyler the Creator, and Violent J
It's a f- miracle to be this lyrical
Paint my face with clown make up and a smiley face, I'm insane
Every rhyme I say sons you like an ultra-violet ray
I'm sellin' hatred, buffet style, all the sh- you can eat
$11.99, so come on and pile a plate
I'm throwin' down the gauntlet to see what hell I can raise
With the rhyme I'm spittin' while I'm sh- on competition
In the meantime it's always mean time, I'm getting
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I've been a career asshole
I don't see why these people always got my back
I done said so much f- up sh-, I was born a mistake
But I was put here not by accident
I had a purpose and that purpose was to beat a beat purplish
Slaughter tracks, I done put my two dimes and a nickel in this sh-
I'm coming to get that quarter back
Like Ndamukong, the drama can build
Your mama can ask me for my autograph
'Cause that cougar's a MILF, she's the oldest trick in the book
But I sure would fall for that
You done brought a bat to a rocket launcher fight
When I get on the mic I'm a snap
Make you wish the ambulance that took me to the hospital
When I overdosed would have caught a flat
If it makes you sick to your stomach acid
Indigestion, my suggestion's Kaopectate
If it feels like I'm running away with the game
It's 'cause I am, don't speculate, spectate
All I got is d- for days and insults for decades
But I get by my wicked ways, lady you can suck a d- 'til your neck aches
Cry 'til you get puffy eyes, red faced
But I'm leaving on this jet plane
You ain't fly, you're an airhead
I'm sick of pounding a square peg in a round hole, sorry, another catchphrase
But your baggage ain't gonna fit in my storage over headspace
'Cause you just ain't big enough to fit your damaged goods
Other words, don't try to put your heart in a headcase
'Cause, baby, stable mentally, I ain't, I need my meds, I peed my bed
I'm going blind, I don't see my legs, I keep on falling down
No wonder you can't stand me, I need my cane
Someone help me, I think my face is melting
If you felt these migraines and see these maggots eat my brain
This G-I-A-N-T hole in my empty head
If you read my mind, you can see my pain
And you'd see why I be this way
Ever since I was knee high playin' with G.I. Joes
Told these h- shut their P-I-E holes, now peep my game
'Cause I'm 'bout it 'bout it
Like a f- echo (echo)
(Psych) Psycho on a cyclone cycle, spriralin', here I go
I'm out of control like no other mic go
Stab you to 'til the knife goes, dull
I'm nothing but a hole inside your skull where your eye goes
'Cause I'ma sock it to you
You don't like it?
Get on your Harley Davidson menstrual cycle and ride it like a motorbike
I'm finna blow the mic the whole night, so
Strike up the f- maestro, I'm nitro
And hi, ho, hand me my shovel
I'm liable to dig my hole deeper
And it's off to H-E double hockey sticks I go
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
Oh, please be empty, please be empty, please be empty
Oh, thank you, God
Ah
Sh-
F-
What the f-
Is that a girl?
Yeah, I'm gonna rock this blouse and put a cock in mouth and get my balls blew out
And get gay into the AM
And lay with eighteen guys naked and let myself show, let myself show
I wonder who that voice is
Buttf- it, suck it, pull it, tug it
Life's too short to not stroke your bone
F- serious?
So everybody, everybody
Jerk, touch my body
Who is that? Where you going?
Come back
Why does everyone always leave me?
Hello? F- you then
Blow it out your a-
Lyrics submitted by MusicChica, edited by ppoolliiss
Wicked Ways [Clean] Lyrics as written by Alexander Junior Grant Joshua Francis Mosser
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Bluewater Music Corp.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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