Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Garbage Bag '94, artist - Necro. Album song Rare Demos & Freestyles, Vol. 1, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 12.10.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Psycho + Logical, Psycho+Logical
Song language: English
Garbage Bag '94 |
Err, my castration hand is steady |
So bitch, are you ready to get your tits chopped off, with a machete? |
When it comes to inflicting pain; |
I’m creative |
You’re gonna need a sedative |
When you get tortured by this fucking native |
My animosity for a female never quits |
So I hang you to die — on two, hooks through your fucking tits (*Echoed* |
OWWWW!) |
Nigga, you get juxed with a spike |
And me and my homeboys dig in your stomach and take the parts we like |
Termites and cock-a-roaches get chewed |
My knife cuts your cranium open to get to your brain for food (Tasty!) |
You get buried in dry mud, when you suffocate in the high flood |
When I’m sad, I fuckin' cry blood (*Crying*) |
Then I eat knee-caps and shins, when I look into your eyes |
I’ll make you cough up your organs |
Plus you’ll, cringe when you get pinched with my syringe |
Then fall asleep and become, chow for my flesh-eating binge |
Then I go to a Bordello, open up the mouth of each bitch |
And dismiss the liquid that’s yellow |
And the backside of each cunt I’ll be arching |
I’m like a soldier, back from the dead |
Storm-Trooping and marching |
Here’s another bite for spite |
My drill bit goes through the left side of your face and comes out the right |
So watch out for the army of bugs, it’s the blizzard of maggots |
So duck down or get covered with slugs |
I got a garbage bag wit’chya name written on it (4X) |
Motherfucker! |
Kill yourself is what you should do |
Cause I’ll make you go through, more terror |
Than the terror that Bobbitt’s gone through |
And if you’re down with that bullshit Nazify talk |
Nigga, you’ll wake up wit' your fucking dick on the sidewalk |
You’re castrated tried park and left over skins |
So get stomped bloodless, by fuckin' heartless pedestrians |
Every fucking memory, of your death I savor |
So I salt your fuckin' brains and blood for flavor |
And cook up, a spectacular meal |
It’s funny, even in the winter time I find there’s flesh to peel |
And when you died, I thought «What a pity |
That you had to die with electricity goin' through your titty» (Hah!) |
And I like, all types of fish, so I’m soon ta |
Sharpen my blade, and stick my knife up your bitches tuna |
The catch of the day, I caught a big one |
Dispose of the body, grab the shovel for graves and dig one, son |
And hop inside it, take a dead female corpse and ride it |
Trust me, it’s great — I’ve tried it! |
I got a garbage bag wit’chya name written on it (4X) |
I got cholesterol cause I eat, human remains fried |
Niggas get buried at the beach, then drowned at the tide |
So to choke, I’ll make you sell your fuckin' soul |
My Calico .22, turned that asshole into charcoal |
I pull out, machetes in pub-lic |
I get sick, and put a dead fuck in the dump, quick |
You stutterin' prick, (D-d-d-d-don't kill me!) |
The murders; |
I’ll never confess |
Where are the bodies? |
Georges Marciano couldn’t even guess |
I’m here forever, yeah forever like a scar |
I sauté your guts, in my gourmet abattoir |
Cause I grin when I sin, I wear your fuckin' skin |
I stick big fuckin' knives in your rotting abdomen |
Dead man, your bodies chopped up in ten different cribs |
A million motherfuckin' cock-a-roaches eat your ribs |
And I got teeth, I got tonsils, and tongues |
I got arteries, and blood-filled maggots in my lungs |
So motherfuck saliva, I got blood glands |
I’m so uncivilized; |
I eat human guts with my hands |
And as it stands, I’m heated so I bathe in ice |
I’m God’s gift to the Devil, so call me the human sacrifice |
The fuckin' nigga that objected to your marriage |
And I’m foul, like a dead fetus in a miscarriage |
My Tantō knife is always sharp; |
never dull |
The Vietnam veteran got a metal plate in his skull |
Plus, I stick my blade in, your guts like Ninja Gaiden |
Put a screw in your head like Eddie from Iron Maiden |
And, in a pool of blood is where Necro swims |
I got stains on my Timbs, from steppin' on your severed limbs |
There’s no need to discuss, the scab filled with puss |
Guns 'R Us (*Gun cock*), so bury me in my sarcophagus |
Then I’m on fuckin' hearts, and body parts get torn |
The Angel of Death kills the first born |
With the blood from a lamb; |
the Pentagram is on your grave |
I’m the type of nigga that Jesus could never save |
Cause I’m coughin' out fresh, fresher then David Koresh |
I chop up niggas and then recycle their flesh |
I got a garbage bag wit’chya name written on it (4X) |
Necrophiliac, black |
Necrophiliac, black |
Necrophiliac, black |
I’mma fuck your corpse |