Agathocles - Dear-Friends

Dear friends, how does it feel to be stabbed in the back,
Dear friends, how does it taste, the poison in your venomous mouth ?
But dear friends, the reason you live, has no meaning at all,
'cause dear friends, the holes of your graves,
have already been dug in my mind,
Yes, dear-friends, I don't give a shit about your artificial lives,
'cause dear friends, the scars I still wear, have been cut by your knives,