Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 4 All the Suicidalist, artist - Esham. Album song Boomin' Words from Hell, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 07.06.1988
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Reel Life
Song language: English
4 All the Suicidalist |
Listen 'cause this is the sound of a crucifix |
The U-N-H-O-L-Y's now in the looser mix |
Unholy’s inside a me so I get homocidous |
The unholy poetry is for all the suicidalists |
Just another brother from D-E-T-R-O-I-T |
I pack a Smith and Wesson 'cause I don’t know karate |
I ain’t no punk nigga, pull the trigger is my thang though |
Grew myself an afro, never sported a kango |
Niggaz I strangle, they don’t wanna tangle |
Fuck a priest 'cause I mash and I mangle |
I’m takin’to the top, I’m makin''em drop |
They thinkin’I’m not, I’m shakin’em, bakin’em, kickin’em, stickin’em |
And always keep hittin''em |
Until I get rid of 'em, I’m pickin’up the microphone |
To kick the funky D-O-P-E is on the microphone |
I had to make it funky once again for my opponent |
I left the stage fulla blood stains 'cause I was on it The U-N-H-O-L-Y, Esham you never knew I Could kick it so wicked, inflict pain, do I? |
The U-N-H-O-L-Y, hell I kick a lotta titles |
But this is for all the suicidalists |
My father was a priest cold-blooded, he’s dead |
And hear the demons screamin’as his body bled |
My father was a priest cold-blooded he’s dead |
Poured on the holy water, bless the dead is what I said |
Some say I’m the son of satan, but they’re relatin' |
Bodily harm, some waitin’for the storm |
That I bring when I sing, it’s a gathering of people |
The U-N-H-O-L-Y so check out the evil |
The evil not a stunk from the wicked poetry funk |
Esham’s the soul that I’m projectin’huh? |
I’m like a deadly disease, 360 degrees |
Of the U-N-H-O-L-Y so fall to your knees |
Dead is all around the sounds’ll pound down |
And drive you insane until it busts your brain |
I’ma head banger, a acid rap slanger |
Comin’on stage puttin’up my middle finger |
Sayin’fuck it and grabbin’my balls |
All the MC’s in the house got shit in their drawers |
'Cause I’m the scarer, a one man terror |
So never compare a sucka with me 'cause I run 'em like mascara |
So no need to tell you my title 'cause you know what my title is This is for all the suicidalists |
I looked into her eyes and she was scared as hell |
A homocidal maniac with suicidal tendencies |
Shoot me of the people I dismantle |
So to stop her from jumpin’I just cut up the bitches |
Death is the penalty if you’re ever caught bitin’me |
Some say I’m insane but it’s my split personality |
The groove it’s just wicked so it makes me shake |
I thought this time I’d make a rhyme and see what it takes |
You suckas tried to creep me then I’ll have to get my gat |
And bust you in the head for tryin’to steal my acid rap |
Esham’s here just for this verse |
The U-N-H-O-L-Y rocks it much worse |
Rock and roll, heavy metal hip hopster |
Word after word till the break a dawn, brother |
Rockin’ay, as I play |
To the rhythm that I just kicked today |
I’ma sway and keep on kickin’it for the ones who buy this |
The needle’s on the wax for all the suicidalists |
Oh, I’m a ho so I don’t have to kill |
I just educate minds to reality |
Uh, oh shit damn that’s another |
So you weak ass hoes keep dreamin' |