Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Spellbook, artist - Apathy.
Date of issue: 01.03.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
The Spellbook |
There ain’t nobody survivin', there ain’t nobody alive |
Unless you made out of metal like RoboCop or Johnny 5 |
Evil washed out the hive, Clive Barker has arrived |
Nosedive into the side of your house with a G-five |
Gee-whiz Mom, why you tryna make me get along |
With all these sucker motherfuckers who make all them shitty songs? |
I’m a vampire walkin' on the surface of the sun |
There’s a motherfuckin' nuclear furnace inside my lungs |
You better do some soul searchin', look how crazy you’ve become |
Like seein' a nun twerkin' while she’s purchasin' a gun |
You say you reppin' Brooklyn in your raps but you’re still a herb |
Who moved into the gentrified section of Williamsburg |
I know the type of kid, the type who hid in every fight he did |
Jumpin' on the mic and frontin' like he lived the life of Big |
I’m like lightnin' shootin' right in the wig |
Billed a butcher slicin' a pig right through the ribs |
I put a spell on you |
Every word, every line, every rhyme is control of the mind |
I put a spell on you |
Every day, every night, every verse I write by candlelight |
I put a spell on you |
Full moons overhead, words glow on the page that I read |
I put a spell on you |
In the deepness of the woods, in a circle with a torch wearin' hoods |
I put a spell on you |
Who got the mox? |
Motherfucker just watch |
I spit megawatts that black out a thousand city blocks |
Fuck Glocks, got a Springfield armory, accurate as medieval archery |
That’ll drain the plasma from your arteries |
You’re part of me, I’m partly retarded, a martyr |
Taggin' cop cars with a fat marker, nobody harder |
I’m Megalosaurus armor, I’m quicker than Peter Parker |
Put crop circles in fields then I’m fuckin' the farmers daughter |
I travel through vortexical portals made out of water |
I slaughter the competition with spittin', why would you bother? |
The author of holy scripture but I’m not the Holy Father |
Ghostwriter like Shakespeare If you makin' the right offer |
Them other rappers are softer, get buried with Jimmy Hoffa |
Get off of me this is awfully obvious y’all are jockin' me |
Usin' quotes from verses like reverse psychology |
Rap isn’t gettin' better, y’all just used to poorer quality |
And I don’t give a fuck if you tell me you never felt me |
'Cause you probably just jelly your favorite rapper couldn’t melt me |
I probably shot some babies in your baby mama’s belly |
And her telly, watchin' Belly, wouldn’t beat it 'cause she smelly |
No-name rappers who sweat themselves really isn’t healthy |
Doesn’t make sense like a paparazzi takin' a selfie |
Let it marinade on some ice |
I’m Kevin Arnold on the mic narratin' my life |
I put a spell on you |
Every word, every line, every rhyme is control of the mind |
I put a spell on you |
Every day, every night, every verse I write by candlelight |
I put a spell on you |
Full moons overhead, words glow on the page that I read |
I put a spell on you |
In the deepness of the woods, in a circle with a torch wearin' hoods |
I put a spell on you |
Every word, every line, every rhyme is control of the mind |
I put a spell on you |
Every day, every night, every verse I write by candlelight |
I put a spell on you |
Full moons overhead, words glow on the page that I read |
I put a spell on you |
In the deepness of the woods, in a circle with a torch wearin' hoods |
I put a spell on you |
«Every religious, mystical, and philosophical sect has had exactly the same |
difficulty from the beginning of time. |
Where it is the person… |
who really believes that the esoteric truths of life are some kind of a secret. |
. |
and that it is possible to find the key. |
Buy it, steal it, beg it, borrow it, |
through some way to get it… and that by means of this key we can suddenly |
unlock the shut door of the palace of the King.» |