All my childhood, I loved playing with fire

Burning shit down was my heart’s sole desire

The doctor’s labeled me a pyromaniac, to be right and exact

And yes, that would be me turning forest fires into ashes

From North Carolina to Tennessee

Abandoned houses and dumpsters were my favorite,

I always moved alone and of course was nothing to play with

Check me out, I would never tell on myself and for some reason, people always questioned my mental health

They used to always say,

“Why is he always by himself to be successful”?

You must be cunning and stealth

I can’t lie, my love for fire was real and if fire was a woman, she’d have hella sex appeal

This addiction was like battling uphill

and when things got hot

I still had no chill

Watching things burn was like time standing still

You’d had to walk in my shoes to understand how it feels

The feeling is unexplainable, walking around knowing everything is flam

I wasn’t much for following rules gas & matches were my essential tools

And if I became manic, then I would really act a fool

Old E. English 800 only thing that kept me cool

One thing I can say is that I used to be amused seeing all my hard work show up on the 10 o’clock news

But then again, I knew I had to stop, came home one day and greeted by cops

Somebody saw me and snitched so they took me away

There was nothing I could do, there was nothing I could say

I ended up in a mental institution for longer that I can remember

Something like December to December to December

It was a long time, fuck it I don’t remember

But I’m all better now and much more mature

And thanks to the shock treatments, I don’t want to do it no more

I have been rehabilitated and that’s for sure