| Bloody Sunday, Black Sabbath
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| The Pope’s a paedophile with a drug habit
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| We’re all clinically depressed
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| They got us all manic
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| We keep swallowin' they pills so we don’t fuckin' panic
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| Run for the hills, grab ya automatic
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| Bring your big black boots, ya fighting gloves
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| Psycho Realm’s in the house screamin' out
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| Sick Side in the house screamin' out
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| Ayo, back from the dead, back at it again
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| It’s the anti-Christo with the antigen
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| Punk I’ll take yo pistol, give it back an' then
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| If you act up again, you gettin' clapped my friend
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| This Coka familiar, five alone will kill ya
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| King Kong ain’t got shit on this here guerrilla
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| Classic Off The Wall like Mike from Thriller
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| A monster in the legend, hail this Godzilla
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| We got the heat for the streets
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| The bag for the drop
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| The kid bloody blow out your back with the pump
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| The move and the shake
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| The move and the wake
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| Welcome to hell, the Devil’s here to open the gate
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| They say hip hop’s hanging from a noose like Saddam Hussein
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| But LCN make you jump around like House of Pain
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| I take it back like purple rain envelopes
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| Crazy Eddy episodes, break and enter hoes
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| Every record sold’s equivalent to coke, homie
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| Welcome to the Terrordome
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| I’m inappropriate like Kramer with a megaphone
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| Black and fire, steel, my mind’s ill
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| Got you on a mission like a crackhead to find krillz
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| I come from a place where the apocalypse is now
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| Armaggedon, Nostradamus called it, you are now with the rawest
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| It’s unwarming light, sun turned to God, God turned to son
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| Murder one, no match, no blood and no gun
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| Fire and brimstones, stem cell clones
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| Mini-microphones implanted deep in your bones
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| They tappin' the phones, mapping the homes (clappin' the chromes!)
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| Ding-dong, click-clack, one in the back of the dome
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| I’m a rebel poet, my words treated like it’s contraband
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| I’m unresponsive to taunts of critics and wants of fans
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| Angelic demonic chronic writer, a haunted man
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| Mongrel monster with the murderers on conquered land
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| I grew around some johns is junkies with bumpkin scams
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| Bar brawls, broken bottles, banging, and launching hands
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| My shifty plans turn a risky chance to fifty grand
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| Double it, watch these sissies stand in your pissy pants
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| This game is gettin' me baptised, we bad guys
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| Choose sides and yous guys is enemies or allies
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| La Coka Nostra is a brand you can trust
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| To roll with a pack of animals with cannons to bust |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bloody Sunday , by - La Coka Nostra. Song from the album A Brand You Can Trust, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп