The Taste Of The End

Who the hell gave you the permission
To play what I wrote?
You don't even understand it,
You're just a bad joke
You're mass produced
You leave in my tongue
The taste of the end
You're mass produced
The end of (the) scene you proudly talk about

You are immoral motherfuckers
You think our project's your catwalk?
Living-slogan, you're a headline
With no sense. Fuck you
Did your mom understand the

Patch she sewed yesterday?
The t-shirts she bought yesterday?
There's more ink in your arms than
In the songs you'll never write
Does your hairdresser know what hardcore means?
You are just a parody of yourself
Where will you get some more cliches?
You are just a lame stereotype
Do you think our project's your catwalk?