Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Body Bag, artist - Madchild. Album song The Darkest Hour, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 27.07.2017
Record label: Battle Axe
Song language: English
Body Bag |
| Don’t take it personal, I kick everybody ass |
| And stocking mass on masses, zippy propping and body bags |
| I’m probably brash, filling myself like a |
| Chopping grass, just chilling with my slime like a snotty rag |
| Y’all niggas too complacent, basic |
| We ain’t the same, it’s a shame |
| I hate it that I got to serve 'em like a racist waitress |
| The money motivation major while you’re chasing pavement |
| Money make the bitch for me, so call it changing faces |
| No preventing all this venom in my sentiments |
| Don’t need a suit and tie to tell these niggas what their business is |
| Break ribs, bitches, dollar bills, Genesis |
| Pop pain killers, pop pills, we ain’t feeling shit |
| So quit the chit-chatter, simmer all the jibber-jabber |
| Chill with the image that you pitching after |
| Real, one step in, your ass been in scattered |
| You’ve never been a factor, and I’m the benefactor |
| Straight cash, don’t get it backwards |
| Baddie gladiator major for a Jabberjaw |
| Saboteur |
| Smoke a rapper like a bag of Labrador |
| Matador |
| Came back in the game looking like Sid Vicious |
| Fuck the radio 'cause trying to make a hit misses |
| Baby dinosaur, don’t fuck with me that’s sacrilege |
| Crazy cracker cracking out, a spackled pterodactyl egg |
| Hanging like macramé, my accolades are played out |
| Barred barbarians are baffled never fade out |
| Hear my laughter, that’s exactly what I said |
| While I fill potato sacks up with decapitated heads |
| Conan the conqueror, I kill kids combatively |
| Let the little monster out the cage 'cause I’m a savage beast |
| Heart’s a dark compartment, I’m a dirty little dwarf |
| The shit I spit’s acidic, I should be admitted for it |
| I had to let it go, gloomy from my vanity |
| Now open up my mouth and I illuminate insanity |
| Uh, look |
| I seen the visions like Will Grant chasing dreams |
| Bodies rip apart, pardon my art I’m just painting scenes |
| Like the artist, but my art is part of an eccentric team |
| Dirty up the party just because I’m partly sick of clean |
| I lift a hood without the whipper, slick as Valvoline |
| Got 'em hooked like fiends, pumping valve, valves of lean |
| And I do it violent, tyrant out of Aberdeen |
| The Alpha E. Jamal ain’t got shit when I rob the scene |
| It’s sniper vision, high pretention with a rifle tripping |
| But this mic is different, its half percentage delights niggas |
| I finished nap, I use a snapple to wrap it up |
| You ain’t got the juice unless my bottle just slapped you up |
| I box 'em up to ship 'em out, a packing service |
| If anybody claiming the animals, I’m the taxidermist |
| Bunch of rappers heads on the wall |
| Damn it, their backs worthless |
| That’s for acting nervous |
| You Microsoft when I blast the surface |
| No… |
| I’m the kind of man that recognizes talent |
| And when I find it I put it to work |