| This ain’t a track its a hearing test
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| But before I shout let me rip my organs out to clear my chest (AHHH)
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| I wear turtle neck tops
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| To hide the scars from where I tried to cut my head off
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| And while your balls sweat standing there
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| I’ve broken more legs then fat brairs have on plastic chairs
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| In the loony bin I chat rubbish
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| Type of cunt who supports Bush just cause everyone who raps doesn’t
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| Make snap judgements, treat kids as puppets
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| Find their ass and stick my hand up it
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| Befriend retards and make them smoke crack
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| I don’t graff but I will leave you with a toe tag
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| Peeps wanna hear our new lines so bad
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| When we cypher on our mobiles, we get our phone tapped
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| Your no match, close but no cigar
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| I’m throwing darts at your face and it ain’t a photograph
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| This ain’t a track it’s straight up rap
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| Idiotic, sadistic, psychotic, horrific
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| Morbid, raw shit, face the facts
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| This ain’t a track it’s straight up rap
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| Take that back
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| This ain’t a track it’s straight up rap
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| Idiotic, sadistic, psychotic, horrific
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| Morbid, raw shit, face the facts
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| This ain’t a track this ain’t a track
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| This ain’t a track
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| It’s a eulogy for lost souls from my shooting spree
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| Only reason I spit, is to disrespect producers beats
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| And break the fundamental rules
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| To categorize me as death rap, cause that’s all I ever do
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| Accept the truth I’m a strange stranger
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| Bury you alive just to show the meaning of grave danger
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| An insaniac undergoing treatment
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| Do what the voices in my head say to control my demons
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| Preparing for human poaching season
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| Sharpening my knife ready for beheading your lower region
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| Which is why the only gems that you drop
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| Will be yours when I get you and chop your testicles off
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| Broke as fuck, all our money goes on drugs
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| Self destructive, no helping us with blowing up
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| The illest and were over obsessive
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| Each bar’s so over the top, you ain’t ever going to get it
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| This ain’t a track it’s straight up rap
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| Idiotic, sadistic, psychotic, horrific
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| Morbid, raw shit, face the facts
|
| This ain’t a track it’s straight up rap
|
| Take that back
|
| This ain’t a track it’s straight up rap
|
| Idiotic, sadistic, psychotic, horrific
|
| Morbid, raw shit, face the facts
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| This ain’t a track this ain’t a track
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| This ain’t a track
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| This ain’t a track, it’s white noise
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| Mentally ill, I watch shock therapy films by choice
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| Superstitious, the horror movie villain
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| Using used syringes as Freddy Krueger fingers
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| Dragging a corpse trying to hitch hike
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| Asking the driver if there’s room for one more inside
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| Break things when high or sniffing the solvents
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| From the same tub of glue I used to fix what I’ve broken
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| I like to pop shrooms, this may shock you
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| But I’m wearing odd socks underneath these odd shoes
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| Rock the same clothes everyday cause I want to
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| And go by the excuse «It's my superhero costume»
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| But that’s not true, after I cremate your corpses
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| I mix them in lines like cocaine and snort it
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| I got a lifetime supple of rhymes
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| I could be spitting bars I wrote now when I’m 99
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| This ain’t a track it’s straight up rap
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| Idiotic, sadistic, psychotic, horrific
|
| Morbid, raw shit, face the facts
|
| This ain’t a track it’s straight up rap
|
| Take that back
|
| This ain’t a track it’s straight up rap
|
| Idiotic, sadistic, psychotic, horrific
|
| Morbid, raw shit, face the facts
|
| This ain’t a track this ain’t a track
|
| This ain’t a track |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song This Ain't a Track , by - Al'Tarba. Song from the album Lullabies for Insomniacs, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп