| (Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls
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| Dying Times here)
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| The brutalest rapper on Earth will murder you through a verse
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| Murder you in person personally
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| I personify pervertedly hurting you
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| Perfectly, powerfully smashing you, potently picture perfect
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| Pandemonium, pleasureful pain, I condone the sin
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| Damnation rap attracts devastation, gats levitation
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| Medication Axe, hacks into your back revelation
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| Premonition, demolition, death doctrine, concoction
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| Cock the Glock back when there’s no option for boxin
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| A representation of hesitation, pulling it out
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| And not using it a disaster waiting for procrastination
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| Rockin black Reeboks, chasing you for 3 blocks
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| Face it you’re dead, gun smack you and pop you with 3 shots
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| In the back of you waiting mysteriously, seriously
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| Destroy you deliriously, like a conspiracy theory
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| The spirits are near me, don’t irritate me
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| The pirates of violence will ooze the virus of science that created me
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| The ambassador of massacre, mass murdering slurs
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| Trafficking white slaves in the world this racket occurs
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| Shotguns with pump action, dump fractions of metal shrapnel
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| Actual caps peeled in your physical capsule
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| My lyrics factually, naturally, more rugged
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| Then you average savage if you average it mathematically
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| Numerically sticking your wrists with picks
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| The count Down to the blitz, evil like Mxyzptlk, 666
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| [Death comes in the worst way…
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| Death comes in the worst way
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| Through Satanic wordplay here’s a knife in your spine.
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| Death comes in the worst way…
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| You can’t beat it join it
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| Death comes in the worst way
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| Through satanic wordplay here’s a knife in your spine.]
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| I got the mind of a poacher with the pride of a soldier
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| Use the lion and cobra, I’ll apply when I’m older
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| See majority counts, I’m selling gore by the ounce
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| I’m pretty sure the amounts a little more than a douse
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| You’re soaked by sickness, provoke my instincts
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| You’ll be cut to giblets, your throats and wrists slit
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| Jab your jugular, it hurts, stab your skull until it squirts
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| Your blood’ll burst and add another color to your shirt
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| Turn your feet to chopped meat, you’ll be bludgeoned and vicked
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| Leave your teeth in the concrete and your skull on a stick
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| All delusions of grandeur get excluded from stanzas
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| No eluding the panther, the ensuing of cancer
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| You get exquisite visits by blades that make incisions
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| A vision of you bitches to bits with Richard Scissors
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| Slicing through you fucks will leave a scuff on my sword
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| Guts will slide across the floor like a puck in shuffleboard
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| My Glock is shot with force, leaving you a rotting corpse
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| 100 Molotov’s to cause a jungle holocaust
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| Don’t fear the reaper, cause I’m just a fact of life
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| What you should fear, is once you’re dead I’ll probably attack your wife
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| Give your girl something to watch, putting roaches in her crotch
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| Chop the package into part, and put the postage on the box
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| When the chromes spit, your dome’s split, the kiss of death is blown bitch
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| Leave you in a cold stiff, stinking like the homeless |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Knife in Your Spine (Satanic Wordplay), artist - Mr. Hyde. Album song Barn of the Naked Dead, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп