"Tough Luck (October 2002)"
We can’t stop the world from being free
We can’t stop doing what makes people happy
Just because someone’s trying to screw it up
If we’re this scared now, we might as well give up
But I’m not going to and neither are you, you’re stuck
In the middle doing whatchu want, not givin' enough
People complain how you 'have no feelings' – well, tough luck
Misery has come to be
It has yet to secede
And make its own folder
That gets thicker as you get older
Worrying about what’s gonna happen next
Worry about today, live today, and don’t make yourself a wreck
Supposedly armed with knowledge
We’re too lenient and oh so too tolerant
But it’s the trail we’re following
To catch this criminal
With several vehicles
Changing everyday, but we’ll find him
And he’ll pay, he’ll die for his sins
Gallantly we take up the evidence
We’re so slow as he gets away w/o leavin’ a presence
Fingerprints, dust, we’re not using common sense
Get it done, or we’ll all be over won
By this lunatic who probably will just rinse
Off his hands and reload his gun
Forgetting the past, ‘cause he’s so crazy
He doesn’t realize the police aren’t THAT lazy
As long as he don’t come my way
‘Cause he won’t want to
Dead, he will unconsciously lay
For all the things he’s done, he’s living proof
That the bad guys always get away
Eminem was wrong when he and Dr. Dre
Made a song sayin’ “Bad guys always die”
Not if the serial killer continues to lie
And plead insanity
The crazies always do seem
To get away with murder, basically
Although, they’re put in jail for three
‘Long years’ in their description
But if I don’t get my way, I’ll keep snitchin’
And complainin’ about this
‘Cause I won’t take this ish
So sad to see, every day, the other’s see
A new body, to add to the list, buried
Cringing at the fact, no one considers that
The suspect works in all these places with many faces
Untying people’s shoelaces, for the other races
Since he’s just a dog with human body parts
And once he falls apart will be the day salvation starts
The cream of the crop, the litter
The police only act, so bitter
Enticing the serial killer
To deepen the graves, the filler
Over the brim it’s beginning to leak over
While he’s doing his ‘mission’, he better stay sober
‘Cause if drunk, his life will be closer
To coming to an end, and that’d be when
This songs ends, too, my friend
