I saw your mom the other day
she says youre wrong in every way
her little words sick like the flu
I see the things they do to you
she better cut it out
you better cut her out
you better cut her off
youll have no other God before me
I saw you with your friends last night
shooting shit by Buds early Light
youve got so much life inside you
but they drag you down til you cant move
they better cut it out
you better cut them out
you better cut them off
youll have no other God before me
all you need, all you need, all you need is me
lucky you, lucky you, lucky you. you find me
whadja do? whadja see? whadja feel before me?
and my love is so, oh, oh, youll wanna kill your friends
Ive seen you labour for your dreams
then, comatose when theyre unseen
and sometimes God is silent, too
but God cant fill you like I do
he better cut it out
you better cut him out
you better cut him off
youll have no other God before me
youll have no other God before me
youll have no other God before me
