| I walk with an army of zombies, dancing and chanting
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| Bloodfests and orgies, skeletons are marching
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| With ogres and martians
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| Evil cantations
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| Paegans and witches, the flight of a raven
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| Songs from the gravestones, fire from the rooftops
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| Brimstone and lightning, curse of a cyclops
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| My rage in a red cloud, vortex of cyclones
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| Storms in a teacup, fight til my eyes closed
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| Is this my coffin or a lifeboat to Cairo?
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| Ships on the dead sea, offspring of pirates
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| Offerings for lost gods buried in the silence
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| The thirteenth ghost from the halls of the asylum
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| Giants of seance, rain, sun or hailstones
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| Stopped in my tracks, handcuffed to a rail road
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| Waiting for a slow train due before morning
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| Welcome to the end of the world that we’re born in
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| I’m going to try and kick it with that rhyming shit that’s scientific
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| But even my lightest lyrics seem like hieroglyphics to mindless critics
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| Fuck your spineless gimmicks, wisely set, we come precise as physics
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| My wisdom on the track like some semen on your nicest biscuits
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| Just a violent misfit trying to vocalise my life’s statistics
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| Cos hazard be decisively while my peeps release the tightest mixes
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| But why should indict tendecies as Hitler’s
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| Trying to fix this wine because the light’s ballistics
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| Symbiotic structure of flows, rhymes and drum patterns
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| Shattering soundscapes raise your wordplay with shaking atoms
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| Staggering through time and space like beligerent individuals
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| Foreign Beggars symphatized it nice but not hospitable
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| Visual conceptualisation resulted in coded rhythm talk
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| Diminishing listenings written in chalk
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| Making a stalk are the weaker seeds of the first signs
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| My third eye sheds a tear through fear of the burning light
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| Cold-hearted
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| Insane
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| And maybe sane at the same time
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| So evil
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| We’re all gunna be slaughtered
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| I’m the son of a demon
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| Conceived with no semen
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| The hell-raiser
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| Threw in a razor and can’t feel it
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| I see through an eye-patch
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| I’m just about breathing
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| The cobwebs are bleeding
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| Revealing my feelings
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| Half brother of Damien
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| Drinking uranium
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| I’ll snatch up the atmosphere and put out the sunlight
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| What could be better than spoiling your fun so
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| Feast on a new-born and fetish for tongue is
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| How I became to be known as the one
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| I’m a flesh crawling hybrid
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| Crossed with a dinosaur
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| T-Rex power drill banging on your front door
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| Skin scorched bad like the singing detective
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| Lord of all darkness, the true Loch Ness
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| FB’s on deception like a lethal injection
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| Protection from my crucifix ends in rejection
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| Prepare for the end of this world cos we’re ballin'
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| I’m dryly spiteful
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| It’s higher it’s highly insightful
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| Orifice on the offend, rippin it like a Tyson
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| Despite all that my nine to five what is mine and rightful
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| Strive for the life that is nice because finding rhymes is highly delightful
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| Lies are viral, especially when dispersed by meisers on vinyl
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| I’m violently inclined like the plight of a tyrant’s rival
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| Can’t to decide whether to confide in a knife or bible
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| Providing a fight in spite is just a coward’s cry for survival
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| Attention defecit reflection of edgy restlessness
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| Never mention perfection yes I dwell in the densest crevices
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| My head is where the best of them perish, the battle’s effortless
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| Feeding off the fact that you’re stressing 'bout your defencelessness
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| Every single person’s a victim for different reasons
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| Defeating yourself is just your instincts committing treason
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| Spitting every season come ice, fire or water
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| Enter this next level of malevolence and slaughter
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| Prepare for the end of this world cos we ballin' x 8 |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Coded Rhythm Talk , by - Foreign Beggars. Song from the album Asylum Speakers, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп