A Killer’s View of Society

Every Man, Woman, and Child were killed

Their innocent blood was spilled

On the kitchen floor and splattered on the walls

As a result of a bad drug deal

That had gone wrong

Now the whole family is dead

No more Dad, no more Mom

The Killer is sick in the head

The kind of man not fond of Love

And sees Life always in Red

Pure anger and pellucid hatred

For a World filled with people fakin’ and hatin’

Who lock themselves away in a Barnes and Noble bathroom stall masturbatin’

To magazines fresh off the Newsstand

And they don’t consider this as any sort of violation

Because the magazines never left the store

So how can they be stolen and really,

What is wrong with a little semi-public self-gratification?

So is it any surprise?

That the Killer had no pity

Or shitty remorse in his implacable eyes

As he stares at the corpse

He does not feel a damn thing and why should he?

She was just a whore

Of this materialistic World we all live in

Filled with liars and false prophets of apocryphal religions

Where even the dishonest priests truly believes the lies they are givin’

As the subtle glow of the full moon caresses him,

The Killer is diggin’

A hole for the dead woman in the kitchen

Cut and bled out

The sick nut then gutted her

Dismembered at the joints,

Removing flesh from the bone

Stopping only to sniff lines of coke mixed with oxy-codone

Trade name Oxy-Cottin

Guns, marijuana, cocaine, and prescription drugs is like a Stockton

Christmas with stockin’

Stuffers and every-thang

The Killer does not worry about the Police because he is Rich

And just like any other street gang

The cops can be paid off

In a currency of paper bills often said to be snuggly soft

This is The American Way

Where there is no Black or White (except on the streets)

There is only grey

In this so-called Justice System

Where so-called protectors of society prosecutes folks for simply livin’

The Serial Killer is a bad guy, Ladies and Gents, that’s right

And as you sit at home learning about The World

Only from the five o’clock news every night

You discover you are brainwashed and can no longer find the will-power to fight

When the knock on the front door sounds

On some bitterly cold, rainy night

Men from the Government will come to lock you away

For the rest of your senseless live

And I bet all you wonder about

Is if the Serial Killer you saw on television is still alive……

 

A.N.F.

Drew Kazinsky

January 19, 2012

West Stockton, California

Westies 209

Crazy Killer Cracker

 

 

(Chorus)

I throw these Words so Quick on the Page

Whether to Express Pleasure or my Rage

It Doesn’t matter Any Fucking Way,

I just Write in the Dark Night until it’s Day

The Written Word is Black and White,

Almost Never will it be Gray

 

 

 

DreW KazinskY

is a Crazy, Killer Cracker

Just another Mad Man Rapper

In a vain search for a true slapper

Like the one feeding my Brain

from the speaker

I smoke Marijuana from a glass beaker

I stay down cause never was I a tweaker

and I don’t need a heater, to defeat your

Anger when you found out your girl, I beat her

But in a good way and never again will you see her

She’s mine now but I don’t want the whore

The Bitch is a bore, as Dumb as a door

And the sex was only good when we fucked on the floor

but I really can’t stand her anymore

She never buys me shit because the bitch is poor

It’s cool, I took her just to fuck with you

What are you going to do?

No, wait, let me ask again, friend

Just what the fuck are you going to do

To hell I will send       you when the corner I bend

and put three slugs in you

Get out the car and go to work with the Power Tool

Feeling Evil and Wicked, like that Dumb Fool

that shot up the Children at Cleveland School

He shot himself, exit wound through his hair

That memory still haunts me though I wasn’t there

At night we used to smoke weed

On the Playground on a dare

talking with the Dead Kids about how Life wasn’t fair

I asked a question that gave them pause

 

Did God ever Care

for them or any other Child that was lost

 

 

I found the truth but I can’t tell you the answer

It’s the reason I’m a Mad Man, Killer Cracker

that will die from a bullet that a car-jacker

Shot me With

I can’t blame my attacker

He was a Kid

 

(Chorus)

I throw these Words so Quick on the Page

Whether to Express Pleasure or my Rage

It Doesn’t matter Any Fucking Way,

I just Write in the Dark Night until it’s Day

The Written Word is Black and White,

Almost Never will it be Gray

 

 

Yes, Sir!!!!!!

It’s time to deliver

old school shit that

I know you remember

Back in the Day

When you could never

Imagine the Life you live now

Days spent smoking weed

wondering exactly how

did it all come to this

I remember when people were real

Not this Fake Bullshit-ters

Narcotic Anonymous Quitters

Such a Skinny Bitch

with just one Finger I could lift her

Over my head and into the Sky

Your girl could be mine

If and when, I got her High

These fucking Kids on BART

annoy me and they don’t even try

I know your only Fifteen

But I think you want to die

Cause the bullshit is getting close

they ignore me and they see

in my note-book, I’m writing prose

 

Not a threat or so

they think they know

but Kazinsky’s a Sick Ghost

Ready to grab his knife, slit their throat

Slice some meat, and cook up a Roast

I’m originally from the Central Valley

Of Northern Cali

But I now be                           In the Bay

Where Life is sometime Deadly

but you best believe the Kazinsky

is more than ready

I send letters through the Mail, guaranteed

to make my enemies not forget me

Shit, these

Motherfuckers must have forgotten

that I’m from Stockton

Now in the Berkeley Hills,

Blasting into the Dark with a Shotgun

My back hurts now and I need a Vikadin

Any-one got some?

 

(Chorus)

I throw these Words so Quick on the Page

Whether to Express Pleasure or my Rage

It Doesn’t matter Any Fucking Way,

I just Write in the Dark Night until it’s Day

The Written Word is Black and White,

Almost Never will it be Gray

 

Drew Kazinsky

Rewrite: 04/06/08         Berkeley, California