| Out one night, yo, just chillin’out with my crew
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| We were actin’wild
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| 'cause I didn’t have nothin’else better to do.
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| Got a nine at my waist
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| stay out my fuckin’face.
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| You fuck with me right here’ll be your resting place.
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| Some ol’sucka, yo, he tried to put a move on me
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| I shot him in the face,
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| murder, in the first degree.
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| Now I’m sweatin', regrettin',
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| that’s not for me they got me locked in the fuckin’penitentiary.
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| Bowels of the devil,
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| let me tell you what the muthafucka eats,
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| its stomach’s filled with lost souls
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| guts made out of steel and concrete.
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| Bowels of the devil,
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| listen close, 'cause I’ve been there before
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| and you don’t wanna die there,
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| they call it goin’out the back door,
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| the back door, the back door, the back door.
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| Walked in the club all the ho’s gave me the sex look
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| they like a nigga like me 'cause I’m a known crook,
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| and my posse’s down, we don’t mess around,
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| you fuck with us,
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| you’ll be six feet underground.
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| That night they got me locked in a row called death
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| the governor, that muthafucka wants my last breath.
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| That’s right, homeboy wanted to pull a switch on me up here in this fuckin’penitentiary.
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| Bowels of the devil,
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| let me tell you what the sucka eats,
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| its stomach’s filled with my homeboys
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| guts made out of steel and concrete.
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| Bowels of the devil,
|
| listen close, 'cause I’ve been there before
|
| and you don’t wanna die there,
|
| they call it goin’out the back door,
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| the back door, the back door, the back door. |
| Yeah!
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| Bowels of the devil,
|
| let me tell you what the muthafucka eats,
|
| its stomach’s filled with my homeboys
|
| guts made out of steel and concrete.
|
| Bowels of the devil,
|
| listen close, 'cause I’ve been there before
|
| and you don’t wanna die there,
|
| they call it goin’out the back door,
|
| the bowels of the devil,
|
| let me tell you what that sucka eats,
|
| its stomach’s filled with lost souls
|
| guts made out of steel and concrete.
|
| Bowels of the devil,
|
| listen close, 'cause I’ve been there before
|
| and you don’t wanna die there,
|
| they call it goin’out the back door,
|
| the back door, the back door, the back door. |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bowels of the Devil, artist - Body Count. Album song The Smoke out Festival, in the genre Хардкор