[First Verse]
Goochy-goochy boo-boo, you know I'm fucking coo-coo. Voulez-vous coucher? Insane brain something quite like Cujo, I'm spitting this shit out to who knows and sticking to whatever's true though, kicking it freaky 'cause baby see maybe that's just how I wanna treat you hoe. I'm too dope, you're too slow, sick of them feigning like fools gold, a flickering flame withers away soon as it starts to get too cold. Got two soles, like footnotes, stomping the shit out you putos, flocking with birdies so chulo, can look but you can't chew though - don't bite that which bites back, I'm off the bike rack, you're trained and chained so I'm not afraid if you think you can fight back, 'cause really you're quite sad - if I get a tight snag, I'm leaving your neck snapped, really you were just a quick snack - appetite like quicksand, rapping tight like "who's that?" - this dude's bad, I'm a killaaa, get your gat, blat! I'm quick to react back, better equip with a flak jacket, city to sticks I'm a bad habit killing you pricks with these fast jabbings!

[Chorus]
CITY TO STICKS, WHERE DO I FIT!?
KEEPING IT WICKED SICK!
SLAMMING A FIFTH, SLITTING MY WRISTS
SHIT THAT'S WICKED SICK!
STICKS TO BRICKS, WHERE DO I FIT!?
KEEPING IT WICKED SICK
SLITTING MY WRISTS, SLAMMING A FIFTH
KEEPING IT WICKED SICK!

[Verse 2]
The times have changed and I'm to blame, the signs that lead the way will fade, malevolence stays, the look on the face has never been changed, it's always been blank, the tides have turned to wash away the thoughts that always complicate - in chasing the fame, there's always a flame, a burning a pain, a burden that's great (late), hell of a fate! Hello my name has never been mentioned, I scratch it away! Blotch it with paint dark as the day, so many voices with nothing to say - sew up, slap ointment, they cut it again, make an appointment to drain it away - every last cent in the bank, send in the clowns, send in the fakes, send in the wishers, audition for place, everyone's niche is just something to chase, everyone's itching to leave their own stains, never alone, together we place a puzzle together through trial-mistakes, aye? Never defile the greats! So watch what you say when you bring up my name! Babe, where was you going today? I thought I heard you redirecting my way, what type of film are we directing today? Fill in the blank however you may, I'm feeling you deep as you already think, I don't roll deep, I'm already a tank, run over everything in my way, obvious there is no stopping my reign, so if you feel nauseous then let's hear you say:

[Chorus]
CITY TO STICKS, WHERE DO I FIT!?
KEEPING IT WICKED SICK!
SLAMMING A FIFTH, SLITTING MY WRISTS
SHIT THAT'S WICKED SICK!
STICKS TO BRICKS, WHERE DO I FIT!?
KEEPING IT WICKED SICK
SLITTING MY WRISTS, SLAMMING A FIFTH
KEEPING IT WICKED SICK!

[Verse 3]
Trust this luscious, other fools are bluffing, they can't cut the mustard, it's down right disgusting - I'm way too old to get lost in the woods, I paid all the tolls, there's no throwing the book, crushing other fuckers, keep leaving them flustered, leech-mimicking suckers, bleeding is all they lusted - not to be mistook with the common head cold, the mold and the soot embellishes how it's told, bleach away the clutter to a squeaky-clean wonder, the streets paved of gold, I'm still from the gutter-my mother, in slumber we contemplate how to plunder, dismembering all the problems remembering my revolver, the solver named Dirty Harry inherited from my father, call me chicken, now that's foul! (Fowl) Thinking I'll take you out, one blink I'll remove your bowels, you speak and I shut your mouth, I'm bleak, but I manage, how? Creeping around the town to sleep with the finest now, slip in and sneaking out, I'm ghost, I gotta go, there's shows I gotta blow, there's hoes I gotta know, there's foes, that're gonna fold, it's old, it's all been told, it sold and now you know! We've reduced the bombsites down to A and B, and to witness your own death you gotta pay to see (C), defuse it while it beeps, refuse to accept defeat - hallucinogen using buffoons itching for fleas, the only job that they know is down on their knees, and now the flies come to throw up just wherever they please, but by the end of the day I'm curled up in fleece, I'm not a priest, but I preach as eternal as Jeeeeez! Did he go there? Caviar and kief in my bowl player! No sayers crushed! Her lips are flushed with a hush that could quiet the whole back of the bus, she acquired a whole choir when she hired my touch singing:

[Chorus]
CITY TO STICKS, WHERE DO I FIT!?
KEEPING IT WICKED SICK!
SLAMMING A FIFTH, SLITTING MY WRISTS
SHIT THAT'S WICKED SICK!
STICKS TO BRICKS, WHERE DO I FIT!?
KEEPING IT WICKED SICK
SLITTING MY WRISTS, SLAMMING A FIFTH
KEEPING IT WICKED SICK!

[Outro]
I GUESS I WAS BORN
NATURALLY BORN
BORN BAD
...
Hey, Knox!