| Like biotechnology, attach me to ya ear
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| I make the devil do the work of God and God do evil
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| I’m both positive and negative, I’m like two people
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| Both from New York, New York, so trife they named it twice
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| Only idiots is broke, the hood is paved with ice
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| Paved with gold but never let it rape ya soul
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| Turn the tables on the dough homie take control
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| Fuck not eatin’shot the sheriff, made 'em stop breathin'
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| Anybody that ever fucked with me I got even
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| Wanna be here hardcore homie but you not leavin'
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| Starin’down at yourself prayin’maybe you’ll stop bleedin'
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| God hates us all, use a brick to decorate the wall
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| Put a bullet in ya dome, desecrate ya skull
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| A world of pain so hot, Bill burst into flames
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| Psychological spit it like a person deranged
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| I’m one of Brooklyn’s best sickos, I’m not egotistical
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| Just statin’facts hollow tip bullets keep the biscuit full
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| My rap speaks for itself, its alive
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| It says fuck with me and I’ll have to murder you to survive
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| Their ain’t many like me not too many like me Too many wanna be like me it’s not likely
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| Ya packin’a sword and a bat
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| But me I’m runnin’across the chessboard with a gat, ain’t that ya queen
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| I don’t gotta play this game clean
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| But I’m a play it like I mean business and I’m a utilize my brain to scheme
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| Rap been producin’directin’pimpin’an evil thinkin’clappin'
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| It’s gruesome dissections
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| I started rhymin’in 88 like eighth grade in New York state
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| The only emotion I displayed was hate
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| From pigs with gats and kids that rapped
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| Fuck a snitch, you can’t blame me for an animal like that
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| I clash with the mind of a machathetto
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| And laugh if you cryin’when I blast the metal
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| March with an army of darkness until ya shotty go shot less
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| With a cock that’ll make ya mommy drop topless
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| Write a bible quote with his blood on the wall
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| Another horror flick victim is just, runnin’to fall
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| Now the FBI say that theirs a nut on the crawl
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| It’s Q the fuckin’maniac, brought a gun to the brawl
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| Pop the tow truck cop from my automobile
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| Then slide up in the club and party with my portable steel
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| Violence for the violent consumer, keep ya ear to the beat
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| Ya eyes glued to the luger and true to the herd
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| Hopin’to hurt ya fancy life
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| Cuz I paid taxes and vote for the anti Christ
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| Unholy trinity, vacate the whole vicinity
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| Scrappin’dignity and quickly take the hoes virginity
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| Cause back to before zodiacs, sharpshooter, top of the pack
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| I keep it poppin’like I’m thrown in Iraq
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| Y’all know the cults back, the most hated with the sickest flow
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| Control freak handin’out cups like I was Jim Jones
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| Bury the rubble, half y’all live in the bubble
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| Fakin’my own death to forge passports and body doubles
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| Flash to 86, bubble coats toast and sneakers
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| Slay ya wrists, keep the posse thick, ropes and beepers
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| Dead celebrities, real life ain’t as dope as the movies
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| Mental funeral the trauma unit since it was juvis
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| Out the hood groupies, coke head thugs and rock cuties
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| Motley Crue sluts love to chew cock and cop boobies
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| Swing the war hammer, see me on tour flyin’the Gor banner
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| The pigs tryin’to catch me out shoppin’I’m so modest
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| The gods are metal so consider the dream
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| Elvis is dead and 2Pac, he livin’in Queens |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Canarsie Artie's Brigade, artist - Necro. Album song What's Wrong?, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп