Dig (Live at Candlestick Park, San Francisco, CA - August 2003)

I would love to beat the face

Of any mother f**ker that's thinkin' they can change me

White knuckles grip pushing through for the gold

If you're wantin' a piece of me I broke the mother f**kin' mold

I'm drowning in your wake

S**t rubbed in my face

Teething on concrete

Gums bleeding

Dig bury me underneath

Everything that I am rearranging

Dig bury me underneath

Everything that I was slowly changing

I struggle in violated space

Sell out motherf**kers in the biz that try to f**k me

Hang from their T's rated P G insight

I ain't sellin' my soul when there's nothing to buy

I'm livid in my space

Pissing in my face

F**k you while you try

To f**k me

Dig bury me underneath

Everything that I am rearranging

Dig bury me underneath

Everything that I was you ain't f**kin' changing me

Let me help you tie the rope around your neck

Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge

Let me help you hold the glock against your head

Let me help you tie the rope around your neck

Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge

Let me help you hold the glock up to your head

Let me help to chain the weights onto your legs

Get on the plank f**k

Dig bury me underneath

Everything that I am rearranging

Dig bury me underneath

Everything that I was slowly changing

Wish you were committing

Suicide suckin' on a mother f**kin' tailpipe

Dead man dangling from a tight rope

Limbless in the middle of a channel bob away