| Ay, a gremlin with gangrene is somethin to see boy
|
| Tried to kill myself but used myself as a decoy
|
| You can feel the recoil, making your skin crawl
|
| Smokin heroin chasing a dragon on tin foil
|
| You can see the dragon fly away from the tin foil
|
| I kinda miss my kinfo
|
| Life in an insult
|
| Ay, goodfella but I’m hella poor
|
| Skull bandanna, black hoody like Skeletor
|
| Shoot a couple psychos and I turn into Great Ape
|
| Vice grips, ice picks, zap straps and grey tape
|
| Ay, I chop em up at the pork store
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| Stick em like a cork board
|
| Rock like the warp tour
|
| Any white boy beat me? |
| hardy har har!
|
| One fourty four four nine nine thirty eigths
|
| I’m the little devil tryin to break inside the pearly gates
|
| Each verse nuclear bomb with atomic hook
|
| So much ink on my skin I’m a comic book
|
| Pop so many pills I was seeing pink elephants, irrelevant
|
| Ill still rip your skull from your skellaton
|
| Drink a pesi cola while I ride a silver surf board
|
| North west is mine you don’t want to start a turf war
|
| Gladiator dawg, mad child king corso
|
| Thor’s war hammer knock your brain to your torso
|
| You get it? |
| that means its honkey strong
|
| That means I drop this fuckin mallet like Donkey Kong
|
| So keep your tonsils shut
|
| Cause I will crush a mother fucker like a monster truck
|
| You better listen up
|
| I’m a heathen, a gremlin, an ogre a tyrant
|
| Hallucinating like the mike is dipped in psyllocybin
|
| Mad’s maniacal. |
| Motor mouth on a hot-streak
|
| Used to shop at Gucci, now I stop at the swap meet
|
| I’m like Popeye eating spinach for concerts
|
| I’m a miniature monster I will diminish and conquer
|
| Spewing venom with the dragon of the blessed palace
|
| I’m thinkin of a challenge drinkin from this special chalice
|
| Soldier demons and scavengers of the damned
|
| Passengers in my van? |
| «A massacre is at hand!»
|
| I let a hundred snakes loose, I’m delusional
|
| Then dance around in space boots, I’m confusing you
|
| Stun guns, bear traps, gangsters on cocaine
|
| I got dragon’s breath, spinning fire, and propane
|
| I’m sending out my surrogates
|
| So I can stay home, write rhymes and keep flourishin'
|
| Hands dirty, stand sturdy with assertiveness
|
| Every word I mutter is a murderous advertisement
|
| «Help me!"Thant's the cry of a true looney
|
| Cause I feel like fucking dying, I’m crying with 2 tooneys
|
| Seven golden angels, Chemical warfare
|
| Deadly mustard gas attacks, acid flashbacks
|
| See, I come from the future, that’s a very gloomy place
|
| I’m the Silver Surfer and I’m wiping out the human race
|
| You? |
| You a plastic gangster with a pocketknife
|
| Me? |
| I keep it gangster and I rock the mike
|
| It’s Mr Mystery, a formula with infinite depth
|
| Feel the wind from my breath
|
| Ay! |
| Misbehaving raving lunatic, Twelve Monkeys
|
| Disengage a crazy moody prick, ex-junkie
|
| Lazy-ass buffoon, but I’m crazy as a loon
|
| Now I’m riding a flying dinosaur and waving at the moon
|
| You better listen up |