| Ohhh
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| Oh shit, it’s time to ill
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| MC’s it ain’t safe, e’rybody gettin' killed
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| Your mammy (boom), your daddy (boom, boom)
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| Gram Gram (boom) and your pappy (boom)
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| And them little ugly ass, your ashy ass gets black they are so nappy
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| No self hatred, I’m no racist, I hate everybody
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| Kill your cat, kill your dog and the parakeet bitch
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| Shoot your fish tank up like «Fuck them goldfish»
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| M-m-m-madness and mayhem, P.M. |
| to the A. M
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| Stomp like the collector got a collection
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| Of decomposing possessions
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| Talent scout I’m out to find new specimens
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| May I make a small suggestion?
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| Rappers, stop lyin' through the speakers
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| Cause I see directly through you like Jeepers Creepers
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| Creepy, got a dumb flow
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| Threatening me?
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| I shit on all you, I needs lots of T.P. |
| for my bunghole
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| I’m not high, I’m not high, check my eyes
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| I swear
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| I’m just lyrically retarded and not all really there
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| I’m a beast bitch, I’ll bully money from a grizzly bear
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| As if a bear had money and went to school
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| But in your dreams you can’t win, I’m a fuckin' nightmare
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| Tommy Ray Glatman, dream assassin, Dreamscape
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| You don’t know what I’m talkin' 'bout? |
| Google it, I’ll wait
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| Everybody in this bitch gon' get gunned down
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| Boom, boom, boom, you don’t wanna hear that sound
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| I’m goin' insane, hearin' voices in my brain
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| They keep on tellin' me to do some really fucked up things
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| This can’t be real, I’m really feelin' fuckin' ill
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| They keep on sayin' «Everybody gettin' killed»
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| They keep on tellin' me «Everybody gettin' killed»
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| I hear 'em whisperin' «Everybody gettin' killed»
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| Over and over «Everybody gettin' killed»
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| Yo, yo
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| I’m a white Beast boy like Adam Horovitz
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| Stab you in the orifice, I’m darker than a horror flick
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| (Boom)
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| I put a bullet in your skull to make a peep hole
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| Then lean your head against a tube so I can watch the Creep Show
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| I’m a freak though
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| Graphic rap-a-holic
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| Splatter all your blood around the room like I was Jackson Pollock
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| I’m all alone, I’ll crack your collarbone and haul it home
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| And spread your guts around the wall and write a diabolic poem
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| Like Michael Meyers with a knife cause I’m a psycho killer
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| Listening to Michael Jackson Thriller, I’m a hyper villain
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| I’ll smash your fuckin' skull and then say «nighty night»
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| Tackle rappers wearing tighty whites like it was Friday Night Lights
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| Pop a vitamin then squat like Spiderman
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| Then take a fuckin' shit on all you rappers for entitlement
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| Sneak into your studio then stab you till your speaker’s red
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| Then take your Jordan 3's cause I’m a klepto and a sneaker head
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| Gimmie your shoes
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| Yeah, these are gonna fit
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| Go look up 'psychopath' then find me in the dictionary
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| Grinnin' ear to ear, in prison gear, I hope you bitches ready
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| I fuck a nun missionary, get it? |
| Missionary
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| Got a lot of friends but momma thinks they’re all imaginary
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| And they keep tellin' me to «kill, kill, kill»
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| Murder, murder, roll a blunt and pop a pill, pill, pill
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| And you won’t, but I will
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| For a crisp dollar bill
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| Shove your head so far up your ass you be talkin' shit at every meal
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| I’m me
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| I’m meat with cheese and some Molly powder in private
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| Discussionals blowin' up on which rappers outta be silent
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| I get so fly the stewardess can’t close her eyelids
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| My Taliban homie thinks that I should be a pilot
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| I don’t know, yes I’m the bomb
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| Tick, tick, hide your child
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| I’m happy killing you at work
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| We call that service with a smile
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| Just took some 'shrooms I guess I had the bad pile
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| Burn a cross in front of your yard and blame that shit on Mad Child |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Kill Kill Kill , by - Madchild. Song from the album Lawn Mower Man, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп