| My fist is a gun, my fingers is individual pistols
|
| System overload, glitches toe to toe, eye to eye, soul to soul
|
| Walk amongst the lords of war, soldier gore
|
| Calls these invisible walls to fall
|
| Mental slavery, skids a metal prison corridor, cult leader orator
|
| Since I was a shorty y’all busy with the .44
|
| The black flag represent the skull and the guns
|
| It’s like selling a MAC-11 to Attila the Hun
|
| The ultimate in cult leaders, adult folk villains
|
| Coke dealings in the champagne room with broke feeling
|
| So fake amongst plastic piranhas
|
| I’mma put you all to sleep in some acid pyjamas
|
| Central intelligence odyssey, mind control biography
|
| MK-Ultra, extraterrestrial sodomy
|
| Way beyond astronomy, double-O like Sean Connery
|
| We walk silently with big silencers violently
|
| Everything William Cooper was talking about then is happening now
|
| Malachi York was way ahead of his time too, it’s wild
|
| «In the land of the blind the man with one eye is the king»
|
| My fist is a gun, every finger’s an individual sword
|
| You either living with Shaytan or you living with God
|
| I make metal with the cult leader orator
|
| Since I was shorty y’all busy with Bacardi raw
|
| I cock the .44, symphonies by Marley Marl
|
| I would splatter all of y’all, shit y’all never saw before
|
| Vinnie and his dogs of war, bombs the size of soccer balls
|
| Since y’all was inside the walls tortured with the waterboards
|
| Grab him by his throat, take his fucking head and scalp him
|
| I carry black metal like I’m Venom’s second album
|
| Support Dr. York, don’t believe what’s said about him
|
| Strangle non-believers till the fucking redness out him
|
| If we don’t like what they saying I guess we have to drown em
|
| All they see is the demon lord and death around em
|
| I’m made of mercury alloy like I was in amalgam
|
| No matter how you look at it cousin death is the outcome |