Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song This Ain't a Track, artist - Al'Tarba. Album song Lullabies for Insomniacs, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.06.2013
Record label: Crazy Mother Fuckers
Song language: English
This Ain't a Track |
This ain’t a track its a hearing test |
But before I shout let me rip my organs out to clear my chest (AHHH) |
I wear turtle neck tops |
To hide the scars from where I tried to cut my head off |
And while your balls sweat standing there |
I’ve broken more legs then fat brairs have on plastic chairs |
In the loony bin I chat rubbish |
Type of cunt who supports Bush just cause everyone who raps doesn’t |
Make snap judgements, treat kids as puppets |
Find their ass and stick my hand up it |
Befriend retards and make them smoke crack |
I don’t graff but I will leave you with a toe tag |
Peeps wanna hear our new lines so bad |
When we cypher on our mobiles, we get our phone tapped |
Your no match, close but no cigar |
I’m throwing darts at your face and it ain’t a photograph |
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 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 |
It’s a eulogy for lost souls from my shooting spree |
Only reason I spit, is to disrespect producers beats |
And break the fundamental rules |
To categorize me as death rap, cause that’s all I ever do |
Accept the truth I’m a strange stranger |
Bury you alive just to show the meaning of grave danger |
An insaniac undergoing treatment |
Do what the voices in my head say to control my demons |
Preparing for human poaching season |
Sharpening my knife ready for beheading your lower region |
Which is why the only gems that you drop |
Will be yours when I get you and chop your testicles off |
Broke as fuck, all our money goes on drugs |
Self destructive, no helping us with blowing up |
The illest and were over obsessive |
Each bar’s so over the top, you ain’t ever going to get it |
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 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 |
This ain’t a track, it’s white noise |
Mentally ill, I watch shock therapy films by choice |
Superstitious, the horror movie villain |
Using used syringes as Freddy Krueger fingers |
Dragging a corpse trying to hitch hike |
Asking the driver if there’s room for one more inside |
Break things when high or sniffing the solvents |
From the same tub of glue I used to fix what I’ve broken |
I like to pop shrooms, this may shock you |
But I’m wearing odd socks underneath these odd shoes |
Rock the same clothes everyday cause I want to |
And go by the excuse «It's my superhero costume» |
But that’s not true, after I cremate your corpses |
I mix them in lines like cocaine and snort it |
I got a lifetime supple of rhymes |
I could be spitting bars I wrote now when I’m 99 |
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 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 |