Mx. Misery

(You think you know me)
You're the Turbo Killer
You're the Turbo Killer
You're the Turbo Killer
You're the Turbo Killer
You're the Turbo Killer
You're the Turbo Killer
It's just—

[?]

V. Vaughn — the travelin' Vaudeville Villain
He don't give a flyin' fuck who ain't not feelin' him
Watch what you dealin' him: Ace, king, death card
Strong-arm the wrong man, pardon the left, god
(They say I got the city on fire)
(I ain't boomin', that's a goddamn lie, woah)
[?] (Really doe, like really doe)
(Really—)

[?]

Rap snitches, tellin' all their business
For real, for real, for real this time
Fuck out the way bitch, back it up
Shit better get played- played

At the tone, three hours, twenty-one seconds; Coordinated Universal Time
(Present day)
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She'll go alone, and never speak of this again
We depend on you, we depend on you
Runnin' down a dream ([?])
That never would come to me ([?])
Workin' on a mystery ([?])
Goin' wherever it leads
And in your sad machines
You'll forever stay
Runnin' down a dream
That never would come to me
Workin' on a mystery
Goin' wherever it leads

[?]
And the man at the back said, "Everyone attack"
And it turned into a ballroom blitz
And the girl in the corner said, "Boy, I wanna warn ya
It'll turn into a ballroom blitz"
Ballroom blitz
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me? (Double barrel buckshot)

Frontier psychiatrist
Frontier psychiatrist

Let me start at the start, then take it away
My name is Simpson, Bartholemew J

[?]

Where is the money?