Hot Beer -

Hot night cruising town, seeking for relief

A cold glass of beer, seems all that I need

A stop at a filthy bar, and asked for a sip

The liquid flows down my throat, blocking all my speech

Blood boils, anger speaks

Murder instincts screams at me

But I turn around and leave

In my head heading home, I shot you at both knees

A shiny knife, deep inside, dig you piece by piece

I smash your skull in the concrete, and leave you there to bleed

Your liquid flows down my hands, painting the crime scene

Blood boils, anger speaks

Murder instincts screams at me

But I turn around and leave