Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Crowd Killer, artist - Cage. Album song Movies For The Blind, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.08.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Eastern Conference
Song language: English
A Crowd Killer |
I’m an anarchist, no wait, I’m an Antichrist |
Couldn’t find a third six of my scalp so I used a knife |
Scratched it in, I’m wasted, getting trashed again |
An active ten, laughing and slashing friends |
Selling dust to kids is how I used to spend the day |
'Cause I was only trying to live like Tim McVay |
I respect women’s lib by letting them get their mace off |
My dogs are hungry so I flick em with cutting your face off |
Follow my lead, smoke weed and bleed sloppy |
If you see me selling out in the store one more copy |
Jump in the crowd and start swinging the cordless |
Then dismember all you high-tech spy kids with a swordfish |
See these cats in the streets off TV, they all bitch |
Fans with a mic wanna battle, they all shit |
So I push cop killers and things, they call quits |
Then let off one in the crowds, they all hits |
My career’s low on gas, I’m stabbing the rapper in sight |
A suicidal failure like Shady’s ex-wife |
One day got too pissed and sliced open two wrists |
I punch lines 'til there’s coke all over my two fists |
Look off over crowd, connect nicotine buzz |
Then find your bitch dug out like the headrest where them screens was |
Fuck your six, I got sixteen waiting |
Anymore patient than when they switched me to out-patient |
Left the hospital and dissed my whole crew |
Even pop knew the deal and walked out when I was two |
Get slammed in the dirt, murked and earth plate shaked |
You ain’t stirring hurricanes, you breath on birthday cake |
See some more fags, we’ll choke them herbs |
And beat promoters down and be booked on spoken word |
If I’m too sick, I’m sorry, I’m trying to get my head right |
Wrapped up in this cult that I started on my website |
See these cats in the streets off TV, they all bitch |
Fans with a mic wanna battle, they all shit |
So I push cop killers and things, they call quits |
Then let off one in the crowds, they all hits |
I snap a copy of Blade on DVD in half |
Slice your neck and hand you a pamphlet on AIDS |
Smut Peddlers, break up is apparent |
When I put shit together like Malcolm McLaren |
So Keep staring, I keep feeding your brain flaws |
I’m porn again like the scam that got me in chain stores |
Cage, number 9 on Billboard, fuck |
Now I gotta sick Kubrick on Lil' Bow Wow’s nuts |
Long range shots to where you and your mans is |
Missed and hit some skinny ugly white bitch in Kansas |
Scratch her eyes out right where the evil itched her |
Need a elixir, a heaven |
See these cats in the streets off TV, they all bitch |
Fans with a mic wanna battle, they all shit |
So I push cop killers and things, they call quits |
Then let off one in the crowds, they all hits |