Lyrics Frontline Terror - Fliptrix, Jam Baxter, Ramson Badbonez

Frontline Terror

When there is no more room in hell
The dead will walk the Earth
Body parts flying life’s hard like cars dying
Wanna say its gonna get better but I’m past lying
So gotta make a widows star sign start crying
Pain in the liquid form drippin' from my torn eyelid
Situation volatile
Operation trident
All I hear is war talk, court orders more violence
Far from a walk in the park its a minefield
Pressures building up about to blow
That’s how my mind feels
Never use my signature
No ones got the right deals
Clutching at my mic skills
And running for the high hills
Puffin' on a blunt is death
Clucking for some nice thrills
Losing my emotions that I thought I was designed to feel
Knowing deep inside
That its something only time will heal
Like turning people into road kill behind the wheel
Close your eyes see them still
Still a still life still dead skulls fractured
Road collapses
Rotten corpse broken mattress
Candle lit total sadness
Falling backwards into holes of blackness
So follow me let your soul get captured
With no return 'cos your ghost holds the warranty burn
Your body in a quarantine
Search for your inner peace
Abandon that grief stack cans like police
The tactical man thinks deep on the Dillijence beat
We hold it down with the frontline terror
Raising the ground up
Gutter style forever
Lace your boots
Mask up and don’t mess up
We hold it down on the frontline
The frontline
Check out my frontline terror
Rendering error makers
Under pressure blending babies
In the shredder for my pleasure
Make and brew the naked crew
Who came into this danger room
With barbarians, warmongers, wanderers and ancient spooks
My coalition holds position
Under war clouds
You caught your little sister in the whore house
With her drawers down
Convince that ghastly hag to get her knickers off
For half a gram of kali or smack, arms with tracks
I’m carving shanks from lava lamps
Heavy artillery blasting you imagery
Pandemonium in the street
And no police to walk the beat
Fake fuckers catchin that map
Cuddling face huggers
Alien smugglers got map
Crusader space chuggers
Open up the stash and load that gat
And let it vent
Holy book fanatics won’t back chat
My seventh sense
An old man with gifted ears
And a twisted beard
Who disappeared nine hundred years ago
Speaking like sixty years
In chronological or alphabetical order
I grab the neck of your daughter
And splash her head in the water
Sawn off shotty full up with copper coins
And hot lead
Gate crashing your complex with 'nuff feds
To drop dead
My frontline terror
Whatever the weather apply the pressure
Blend your friends up in the shredder for my pleasure
My frontline terror
Whatever the weather apply the pressure
Blend your friends up in the shredder for my pleasure
Yeah
Frontline territory
Barrel full of big fish
Splashed on the gravel with the rats and the syringes
Mid-winter winds whistle rattlin' the bin lids
Iron giants rise up to massacre the midgets
The cackling of witches
Drifts in the citadel
More tell-a penny skets flipped in the wishing well
Rusting
Never dig 'em out, might catch something
That drunken yatt’d every man up in the man a busting
Man are trudging the streets looking mad spooky
Lagged off the Drambuie mashed to a jam smoothie (mad boozy)
Gash up on my lap tryna chat to me
Stomach pain’s feeling like a tramp stuck a shank through me
Frontline pterodactyl
Check the wingspan
Check the stickman’s blistering skin
Hangman turned his brain to a black and blue jelly
I, guess he chased one dragon too many right
But the city never takes prisoners and never sleeps
Even if the skies rain Valium instead of sleet
Even as the heavens weep tears on decrepit streets
Still stay grubby as the shoes on my sweating feet
Creep, smashed glass underfoot
Another night another shubs conking in another bush
Wondrous times, age of calamity
Frontline sailor on waves of depravity