| Praise me, oh god, things I have done
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| Raise the introspect, wars I have won
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| Rise me, oh god, stand still the end
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| Send in the solace one, wars never end My black magic creates tragic fates like
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| back fractures upon magistrates
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| That disagreed with what Necro advocates
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| If you know thugs for 4 G’s you could be coked up
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| Involved in orgies on top of pentagrams soaked in goats' blood
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| With innocent maidens, reciting rituals in a menacing cadence
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| I’m blatantly a sadist, making me Satan’s acquaintance
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| My sepulchral corporals disobeyin' court rules, assaultin' bishops
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| Burn 'em with liquid from the cauldron on the altar with chickens
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| These verses are satanic like Salmon Rushdie
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| Reading Talmud on embalming fluid next to Muhammad, the devil told him to do it
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| Music made for thrashers and gay bashers
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| We slay fascists, while I parlay puffin' LaVey’s ashes
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| You’re enslaved to Mephisto’s imprisonment
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| Dick on Monroe’s grave and christen it when I piss in it
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| Blasphemous like Baphomet’s tits, evil like African ticks
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| Make the female sacrifice and suck theCapricorn’s dick
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| You got pulmonary edema
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| You’ll soon be buried like Gary Coleman’s career, but your skull recovered by
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| FEMA
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| Attackin' the mental, walkin' backwards into temple
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| Gold inverted pentacle, fang platinum dental
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| Magically create tragedy internally
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| Similiar to Merlin so your fragile anatomy burns in Hell
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| Your permanent murder’s a travesty
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| Sincerely and personally I’m eternally HIM, his infernal majesty
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| It comes to me
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| I feel insane
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| I write the book of corpse
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| I feel the strain
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| Killing it comes to me
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| It’s what I do to pray, to pray
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| This shit’s heavy, like the illustrations of Eliphas Lévi
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| Should’ve left you forever celibate at your Briss with a machete
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| Sick, demented women prance, centered in the pentagram
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| Enter the pit, kill a divine being like Glen Benton’s band
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| Importing to Miami beach, no law in the streets
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| I don’t wait for the lord to preach, cause God is dead, according to Nietzsch'
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| Shit on Christ while the beat rocks
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| Blasting King Diamond during the Equinox, sacrificin' peacocks
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| A black Bar Mitzvah, rabinical satanis
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| A clinically sick cynical clique with banana clips and bandanas
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| If your career was killin' for Satan and now you’re locked up
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| It’s clear as day you were decieved like Ramirez
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| I have no physical address, I just spiritua |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Insaneology , by - Necro. Song from the album Necro: The Box Set, Vol. 1, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп