| Peep the sermon of vermin
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| Big evil shout to DJ Riz, Non Phixion, east New York goons
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| And for all you comatose motherfuckers — take some krill
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| And revive or fall. |
| this shit
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| For us stayin' ripped’s a must on hits of dust
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| Swappin' spit with stunts, life revolves around tits and cunts
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| After a joint or two I’ll be peepin' you through point of view
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| Slut, I’d like you to meet someone special;
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| Introduce my groin to you
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| When you wake up at night hearin' foot steps in ya head
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| It’ll be me comin' to whack you or Sammy Davis back from the dead
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| These streets are sick, filled with villain shenanigans
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| That rock wigs and fuck mannequins that look like Laura Branigan
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| Reverend Manson, I’mma burn with ya
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| Cause I can’t be holy when Jesus
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| Looks like a homeless nigga being tortured on furniture
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| Sick like an organ lick
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| Compliment the hate demented scene where some gets
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| Their organs chopped off quick
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| I’m two hits, I’m Styx — for your own funeral you’re tardy
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| When the knifes rammed in ya back you’ll be
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| Shocked like a surprise party
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| Kill you like cancer sticks
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| Turn your chest into a clock and leave your tits
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| Swinging bloody, left to right like a dancer’s hips
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| You’re not my equal, dick — the projects made my people sick
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| Pimpin' a '76 Ford LTD, bumpin' some evil shit
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| «Who the fuck is the euro-felon, son?»
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| To me you’re just gelatin titties hangin' from skeleton
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| Necro’s the way to go, every dirt-bag, slut and player know
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| Cause I keeps it brutal like the pit up inside a Slayer show
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| Kill ya self, why wait?
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| South of Heaven — migrate
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| Gettin' sucked off’s my fate, nine outta ten people I hate
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| There ain’t much that could make me barf, kid
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| After livin' seven years in the Glenwood project
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| Roach-infested apartment
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| Genuine sicko, gore imperial
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| By the time this message reaches you
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| Millions of rappers will be corpse material
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| Peep the murder story, me introducing ya circulatory to purgatory
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| You shall be my slut forever curled
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| In the corners of my netherworld; |
| my dressed up in leather girl
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| Cock back the hammer-on
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| Brooklyn’s an amazon where niggas like Dapper Don
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| In a coffin headed forever Abaddon
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| Had to make me grab the burner, take two pulls, then mug
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| Now ya full of slugs, full of drugs, pull the plug
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| Can’t insult the cult and not expect a snuff bullet or stab
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| Voodoo curse put on your life, inflicting disease in your flab
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| Pull out on me — I’ll yank that shit from you and pistol whip you
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| Violence always on a nigga mind when Mephisto is in you
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| Marijuana shall be the end of me
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| I’m practicin' balance walkin' on the castrated testicles
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| Of my enemies
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| Fuck the constitution! |
| It ain’t about shit
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| Stuck in court with no justice, while
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| The judge rocks a grim reapers outfit
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| Legal AIDS, the name fits 'em: these fucks are like legal diseases
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| That do nothin' for you but hurt you in the system
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| I received order of protection forms, the courts insist on 'em
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| Them shits are yellow, but they’ll be yellow regardless
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| After I piss on them
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| But fuck that piranha known as your Honor
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| It’d be my honor to dead him like Kurt Cobain from Nirvana
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| Props to Yussie Rizo and all my loyal mental patients
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| Try some pudding and vodka and Phenobarbital
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| I hear it’s good |