we stage mad..
suicides so they lookin like murders
aint hide from bookin's n verdicts
slice you up, cook ya perfect
we stage mad..
suicides so they lookin like murders
aint hide from bookin's n verdicts
slice you up, cook ya perfect
scream hard core/ as I spike you with sharp swords/
pose your kung fu style, Ill show you the art of war/
sun-tsu with the harps 'n 'chords, yea, electrical kind
we strangle seeds who bleed from testicle twine
Trips in mines, mind minds decked out privileges trivial statements on those first and take this fake this wasted clips qualified up grips spliced up spits/
verses vocals poke through minds like a dimensional wormhole
never remained fertile when you cannot even get verbally vicious telekineticly gifted/
weep for lost babylon,
the bleeding god, the forgotten sheep slaughtered in a forest of evil fog
bordered by a sea of faults,
fleeing mobs turn to see the holocaust and become kings and queens of salt
screaming shots, police and chalk,
wingless fallen demons walking among us as people...
-.5Kut
I spot cypher lames/ quick scope with sniper aim/
name your price or range/ I'll bury you with your ice and chain/
frisk those cats tripping rats gimme globs of flesh eatting bateria rip through your interier
trival arguments mindless madness jibber jabber skim scrapper bring it back to the dogs of war rigamortis killing crush ya fortress while you abort this/
weep for lost babylon,
the bleeding god, the forgotten sheep slaughtered in a forest of evil fog
bordered by a sea of faults,
fleeing mobs turn to see the holocaust and become kings and queens of salt
screaming shots, police and chalk,
wingless fallen demons walking among us as people...
-.5Kut
in the lair, preparing for war with, a bored wish
torch spliffs, while we sharpen our sword tips
'n short shivs
crazy couplets armed rubbish reneg on the games being played like this is spades
ways i faded2dead making my horror story bring out the gloves and prep them for surgery
operate populate tapes with all more horrific mortified tortured lives in weaving more stories told than anything being told over a camp fire/
More gripping tales than the Wire could tell more blood and gore than Spartacus could spill I spit that real life on wax mcs couldn't ear bud me out venomous chills poisonous slang till the campfire out
wild out wide nose bass throwing out shards of glass,
cast away mythological talk to stone is like vollyball is gonna talk back/
mouthing off on a track mixed feeling get cha cement shoes filled back in the roaring twenties, sucker for a flow, if the glove don't fit you must evict trying settle some bewildering spits over coffee and chronic, why musten my arm be bionic/
Bookmarks