Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm Your Idol, artist - Necro. Album song Brutality Part 1, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 15.09.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Psycho + Logical, Psycho+Logical
Song language: English
I'm Your Idol |
I rock a pair of bloody Nikes, and blood drops on my kicks when the boxcutter |
strikes ya flesh |
Your skin is tender, it’s shredded like it’s in a blender |
The red drips from your head, in the tint of magenta |
You’re left gory, cats that be thugging or bugging |
If they bring it towards me, reverse it |
Take a walk back, rehearse it, think it over, direct it |
At someone else that won’t flip on you and stab you for respect kid |
Your idol, your average psycho, I’ll leave you bludgeoned |
I pack a rifle listen up cousin I’ll leave you stuffed in — a coffin |
Cut up like diamonds, shut up when I’m rhyming — or get |
Your mouth blown off don’t get me upset |
You walking vaginas, talking like minors, you’re spineless |
Looking for Necro’s, looking for trouble — you’ll find it |
So die quick, you bitches need the Heimlich |
From sucking my dick, now jock the recital — I’m your idol |
When I rhyme — fuck it, I kick raps like a slime bucket |
I kick back getting blowed by a dime — suck it |
You think whack, while me — my minds rugged |
I see it’s my time to bludgeon — I’ll take a nine and buck it |
You suckers, die slowly, respect me like I’m holy, Godly — the one and only |
Hardly able to be played, I’m from BK |
I need blades for he-say, she-say, you should be afraid |
If you talk shit about me you can’t relate |
I’m a teacher — I’ll beat ya — I got a degree in hate |
So kill yourself, before somebody else |
Kills you — before you get the chance to, you should be dealt — |
The cards of death, by your own flesh |
You want to kill yourself now kid? |
I won’t argue with you, you know best |
There’s no test — I haven’t passed |
You test me you’ll be the past — you’ll be a walking cadaver fast |
That’s what you want, that’s what you get |
Wanna get cut off? |
We’ll cut off your head |
I offer instead the chance to turn your body around in a stance |
Not facing me you must learn to follow my commands |
Fuck back packers! |
You fudge-packers |
Shout outs to thugs and cats that pack axes |
Death to new jacks, you’re gassed cuz you made a track |
Your ass, you get played and cracked and the blade’ll be shoved in your back |
Break his fucking face! |
Now kid |
Bash it, smash it, he asked for it — slash it |
But I might get caught? |
So what? |
Do it anyway, bring the onslaught — everyday |
It’s like I gotta kill somebody, now matter how hard I try to be good |
I can’t, you won’t let me — now start getting deadly |
Grab the buck knife — fuck life |
Fuck him, fuck you — now tell me what’s the price?! |
25 to life or you living? |
I’d rather you see dead |
Good riddance — your head fucking split in |
Release aggression, swing a fist |
Blast a gun, crack a bat — over somebody’s back |
I’ll never be done — ever — that’s how Satan made it |
Created all of us to be filled with hatred |
Pain and anger — buck off the banger |
Fuck off you piece of shit I’ll strangle ya' |
You getting cracked in the face with brass knuckles on my fist |
Fuck you — you’re a bitch — I should stuff you in a ditch |
So puff a spliff — smoke your shit to this |
Get you open like a clitoris — shove a knife in your tits |
Its not simplistic it’s technical |
When someone sadistic stabs you in your ventricles |
Mad thought takes place — should I stab him in the face or in the waist? |
You get replaced and erased |
Now face the burners G — one hundred bullets enter your body |
Now you’re dead for eternity — you can’t come back |
When you’re stabbed like a thumb tack — I’m addicted to gats |
Like uncle Howie does crack — so spark the stem |
And I’mma teach you kids why your carcass is a gem |
Study the bloody — my butcher knife lingo |
Rips you to pieces — unos, dose, tres, quatro, cinqo — holes in your back |
Burn you to death — charcoal — black ashes attack your soul with an axe |
Jus' because you’re dead — doesn’t mean you’re really dead |
I’d rather kill you in the afterlife instead |
You ain’t getting no peace — but rest in peace |
Pieces — one thousand parts at least — the maggots in hell will feast |
You’ll be deceased at least three times before the pain begins to decrease… |