| Err, my castration hand is steady
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| So bitch, are you ready to get your tits chopped off, with a machete?
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| When it comes to inflicting pain; |
| I’m creative
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| You’re gonna need a sedative
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| When you get tortured by this fucking native
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| My animosity for a female never quits
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| So I hang you to die — on two, hooks through your fucking tits (*Echoed*
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| OWWWW!)
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| Nigga, you get juxed with a spike
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| And me and my homeboys dig in your stomach and take the parts we like
|
| Termites and cock-a-roaches get chewed
|
| My knife cuts your cranium open to get to your brain for food (Tasty!)
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| You get buried in dry mud, when you suffocate in the high flood
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| When I’m sad, I fuckin' cry blood (*Crying*)
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| Then I eat knee-caps and shins, when I look into your eyes
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| I’ll make you cough up your organs
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| Plus you’ll, cringe when you get pinched with my syringe
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| Then fall asleep and become, chow for my flesh-eating binge
|
| Then I go to a Bordello, open up the mouth of each bitch
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| And dismiss the liquid that’s yellow
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| And the backside of each cunt I’ll be arching
|
| I’m like a soldier, back from the dead
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| Storm-Trooping and marching
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| Here’s another bite for spite
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| My drill bit goes through the left side of your face and comes out the right
|
| So watch out for the army of bugs, it’s the blizzard of maggots
|
| So duck down or get covered with slugs
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| I got a garbage bag wit’chya name written on it (4X)
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| Motherfucker!
|
| Kill yourself is what you should do
|
| Cause I’ll make you go through, more terror
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| Than the terror that Bobbitt’s gone through
|
| And if you’re down with that bullshit Nazify talk
|
| Nigga, you’ll wake up wit' your fucking dick on the sidewalk
|
| You’re castrated tried park and left over skins
|
| So get stomped bloodless, by fuckin' heartless pedestrians
|
| Every fucking memory, of your death I savor
|
| So I salt your fuckin' brains and blood for flavor
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| And cook up, a spectacular meal
|
| It’s funny, even in the winter time I find there’s flesh to peel
|
| And when you died, I thought «What a pity
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| That you had to die with electricity goin' through your titty» (Hah!)
|
| And I like, all types of fish, so I’m soon ta
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| Sharpen my blade, and stick my knife up your bitches tuna
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| The catch of the day, I caught a big one
|
| Dispose of the body, grab the shovel for graves and dig one, son
|
| And hop inside it, take a dead female corpse and ride it
|
| Trust me, it’s great — I’ve tried it!
|
| I got a garbage bag wit’chya name written on it (4X)
|
| I got cholesterol cause I eat, human remains fried
|
| Niggas get buried at the beach, then drowned at the tide
|
| So to choke, I’ll make you sell your fuckin' soul
|
| My Calico .22, turned that asshole into charcoal
|
| I pull out, machetes in pub-lic
|
| I get sick, and put a dead fuck in the dump, quick
|
| You stutterin' prick, (D-d-d-d-don't kill me!)
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| The murders; |
| I’ll never confess
|
| Where are the bodies? |
| Georges Marciano couldn’t even guess
|
| I’m here forever, yeah forever like a scar
|
| I sauté your guts, in my gourmet abattoir
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| Cause I grin when I sin, I wear your fuckin' skin
|
| I stick big fuckin' knives in your rotting abdomen
|
| Dead man, your bodies chopped up in ten different cribs
|
| A million motherfuckin' cock-a-roaches eat your ribs
|
| And I got teeth, I got tonsils, and tongues
|
| I got arteries, and blood-filled maggots in my lungs
|
| So motherfuck saliva, I got blood glands
|
| I’m so uncivilized; |
| I eat human guts with my hands
|
| And as it stands, I’m heated so I bathe in ice
|
| I’m God’s gift to the Devil, so call me the human sacrifice
|
| The fuckin' nigga that objected to your marriage
|
| And I’m foul, like a dead fetus in a miscarriage
|
| My Tantō knife is always sharp; |
| never dull
|
| The Vietnam veteran got a metal plate in his skull
|
| Plus, I stick my blade in, your guts like Ninja Gaiden
|
| Put a screw in your head like Eddie from Iron Maiden
|
| And, in a pool of blood is where Necro swims
|
| I got stains on my Timbs, from steppin' on your severed limbs
|
| There’s no need to discuss, the scab filled with puss
|
| Guns 'R Us (*Gun cock*), so bury me in my sarcophagus
|
| Then I’m on fuckin' hearts, and body parts get torn
|
| The Angel of Death kills the first born
|
| With the blood from a lamb; |
| the Pentagram is on your grave
|
| I’m the type of nigga that Jesus could never save
|
| Cause I’m coughin' out fresh, fresher then David Koresh
|
| I chop up niggas and then recycle their flesh
|
| I got a garbage bag wit’chya name written on it (4X)
|
| Necrophiliac, black
|
| Necrophiliac, black
|
| Necrophiliac, black
|
| I’mma fuck your corpse |