| Kid named kenny |
| Troubled in his twenties |
| Zipped up the trench coat |
| And goes to grab the semi |
| Walked out his door for the last time |
| Cause he got a war on his damn mind |
| Ok! |
| Hopped inside of his 06 honda civic hatchback |
| Makes sure he got da items in his backpack |
| Reminds him about runescape and pack yaks |
| Ain’t got no time to reminisce tho he gotta fast track |
| Kenny knows exactly where this brinks truck goes |
| Creeps up on a quiet empty beat dirt road |
| Its approaching now he’s sweating like a heat wood stove |
| Still he grabs the detonator and he inserts code |
| An explosion erupts |
| Kenny walkin' to the truck |
| Shrapnel flying fast in the air like some hockey pucks |
| In this moment nothing matters |
| Because a brand new chapter was served to him on a silver platter |
| The brinks truck bloated |
| Grab the keys and unload it |
| Said it how it is don’t need to sugar coat it |
| Bagged up all the profits |
| And bought a new identity |
| Went to a brand new place without enemies |
| Fast forward a month |
| And Kenny’s having brunch |
| Across the world but still his stomach got a hunch |
| That he’s being followed or watched, hes crowded with anxiety |
| Decided to leave the tavern quietly |
| Seen his face on the television |
| Thinkin' interpol closin' in on his position |
| Paranoia settin' in poppin' more perscriptions |
| All of his fears are coming into fruition |
| Heard the choppas and sirens |
| Wants to go out without violence |
| Because remorse is his horizon |
| Sayonara world, cyanide in his tooth |
| Bites down on it created his own noose |