| There was me, Alex. |
| and three of my mens
|
| All supposed to meet at Korova Milk Bar
|
| The Korova Milk Bar couldn’t afford it’s liquor license
|
| so it sold milkplus Drencrom, or Synthmesc
|
| It would sharpen you up for a bit of the ol’ultraviolence
|
| which plagued our minds for the evening
|
| And so kiddies… death for all, right right?! |
| RIGHT RIGHT!
|
| I’m Against the Machine like Rage; |
| bitches say, I hate you Cage!
|
| After circle jerks, I wash my hands off and do dirt
|
| Sick with a smirk, plus I be disturbed
|
| Fucked the first two bitches like dogs and I jacked off on the third
|
| I’m obvious oblivion but that’s my science
|
| Fuck your head up like corn rows put in by blind giants
|
| Haven’t been with it, since the last corpse kidded
|
| Wore a blood stained smile, and told the cop, He did it!
|
| Of course the most raw throughout the 9−1-4, 1−0-9−4-0
|
| Got you beasts shook like Doc Moreau
|
| Pour beer out for yourself because you’re walkin dead
|
| I’ll burn your house down like a fuckin Talking Head
|
| And get high like fuck, and pick apart my brain
|
| Disections may mentally cause infections
|
| Break you with inventions, sick intentions
|
| Leave most MC’s lost in my sentence
|
| I’m strictly, beyond and back, come and get me Hemotobin, left from a lip like a hickie
|
| Leak smoke got me ready to murder a rookie
|
| Killers on your block tuck in they dicks like Tootsie
|
| Come and witness what your shit missed
|
| Watch the glock kiss, Little Sis’wetter like a Baptist
|
| Inconvinence; |
| dilemma, like sitting on, Venus
|
| with no shuttle, treeless
|
| Try and pick apart some Agent Orange perception
|
| Catch frontal lobe damage and not manage correction
|
| I smell leak smoke, left by the anonymous
|
| Beats brought back to life, die, when I’m embalmin this
|
| Come around and get yo’ass shot to clusters
|
| I’ma play the injuns with the arrows you be Custard’s. |
| back
|
| I write upon ya, divorce your head and neck then scalp it Rip off all your flesh and make a outfit
|
| People said his brain was infected by devils (3X)
|
| Infected by, infected by, infected by devils
|
| People said his brain was infected by devils (3X)
|
| I survived abortion; |
| got mushed in that canister shaped coffin
|
| til stolen (that bitch) from the garbage I was tossed in Instincts, snatch your cream like links
|
| Blow shotguns through the sky, makin E.T. |
| eyes chink
|
| See me twistin leak with my peeps from psychiatrics
|
| Get high, run up in ya crib and fuck ya moms backwards
|
| Lost in the dust, don’t give a fuck about dangerous
|
| I’m in it for the whip, plus the cream and the head. |
| rush
|
| Ready to bust any trick that talk slick
|
| Know a crew of devils in my head that force me to walk.
|
| with, Death in my pocket for the curious
|
| At your execution see twelve faces of Jesus in your jury this,
|
| Orange Agent, shit on the vagrant
|
| Caught you in the alley by yourself and left your head vacant
|
| Dare you sample, some of the stress in my life
|
| Give an MC brain surgery with butterfly knives
|
| For all you cunts that try to spit with your bitch clique behind ya Wake up in the mornin with a horsehead beside ya Ma Dukes is just a cherry on top
|
| Spendin G’s on quacks to try an fix my Clock
|
| I caught the quick lock, buggin in the institution
|
| Whatever sanity was left, caught the execution
|
| Psychological pollution, they stickin me with Thorazine solution
|
| Shootin at the sky lookin for Godly retribution
|
| And I can almost see clear
|
| I start buggin like a insect and lay larvae in ya ear
|
| Agent Orange stompin on MC corpse slim circle body part
|
| Call murder scenes abstract art
|
| Split your sweet prayers since the horror show with infra-red
|
| Boots get planted in chest there for the misled
|
| Lay it down for naps in the dirt, just like Clockwork
|
| Undress your ghost while your brain’s takin a squirt
|
| (Dialogue below interpreted by Cage from the film Clockwork Orange)
|
| Still feeling alive as the young devotchka collapsed
|
| Me being still ready for more in-out in-out
|
| Necro still forcing syringes and dope tracks on the locals
|
| We came to a place called home
|
| and did a little of the old, break and enter
|
| I could feel the Drencrom, leading me on to a horrow show
|
| trying to walk; |
| me being up twice. |