| My practical solution to shmucks beefin' is sinkin' my teeth in the flesh of ya
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| neck like Dracula seducin' sluts
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| And bite a piece of flesh off, but now you could have aids, I’d rather make you
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| a cadaver with blades
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| I write the followin' raps to you cats that bite swallow and jack, and recite
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| rhymes on the mic without aknowledgin' facts
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| I won’t be reluctant to pull out the knife tucked in… my waste, up in the
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| place, leave it stuck in ya face, fuck em
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| I find it difficult, to not be dispicable to minds that are typical
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| Fuck financial assistance, a man’s existence revolves around survival that
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| evolves into a hustler with substantial buisness
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| My attitude is improper, like a skin popper, stickin' a blade on the top of a
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| skull of an imposter
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| Since created at birth, I’ve hated the earth, livin' in a society of anxiety
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| makes it worse
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| (chorus) Morbid, like Mordrid holdin' a chainsaw kid ready to do a gore bid
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| We keep it morbid, off some more shit, get ya jaw split with blood drippin'
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| outta ya forehead — repeat
|
| Its worth while, for you to peep a verse thats vile, you could learn something
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| from watching a perverted person’s style
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| My versatile verses are like curses that give you wild urges to worship belile
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| Beef with me you cant stay the same, you’ll have to change ya name, change ya
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| sex, rearrange ya frame
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| Take a plane to somewhere strange if you plan on keepin' ya cranium containin'
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| ya brain
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| Your fuckin' dome will give in, with the turnakit wrapped around ya, you’re
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| underground kid, ya the artist formerly known as livin'
|
| You’re the past like yesterday, blast ya chest away, your positive HIV test is
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| gay
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| And stop hip hoppin, you’re dick jockin', you stick cock in ya mouth and rock
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| chick stockings
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| So die, its all about evil raps and weapons, money and sluts, with gats
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| strapped by the intestines |