Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Riz Mixtape Freestyle '97, artist - Necro. Album song Rare Demos & Freestyles, Vol. 3, 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
Riz Mixtape Freestyle '97 |
Peep the sermon of vermin |
Big evil shout to DJ Riz, Non Phixion, east New York goons |
And for all you comatose motherfuckers — take some krill |
And revive or fall. |
this shit |
For us stayin' ripped’s a must on hits of dust |
Swappin' spit with stunts, life revolves around tits and cunts |
After a joint or two I’ll be peepin' you through point of view |
Slut, I’d like you to meet someone special; |
Introduce my groin to you |
When you wake up at night hearin' foot steps in ya head |
It’ll be me comin' to whack you or Sammy Davis back from the dead |
These streets are sick, filled with villain shenanigans |
That rock wigs and fuck mannequins that look like Laura Branigan |
Reverend Manson, I’mma burn with ya |
Cause I can’t be holy when Jesus |
Looks like a homeless nigga being tortured on furniture |
Sick like an organ lick |
Compliment the hate demented scene where some gets |
Their organs chopped off quick |
I’m two hits, I’m Styx — for your own funeral you’re tardy |
When the knifes rammed in ya back you’ll be |
Shocked like a surprise party |
Kill you like cancer sticks |
Turn your chest into a clock and leave your tits |
Swinging bloody, left to right like a dancer’s hips |
You’re not my equal, dick — the projects made my people sick |
Pimpin' a '76 Ford LTD, bumpin' some evil shit |
«Who the fuck is the euro-felon, son?» |
To me you’re just gelatin titties hangin' from skeleton |
Necro’s the way to go, every dirt-bag, slut and player know |
Cause I keeps it brutal like the pit up inside a Slayer show |
Kill ya self, why wait? |
South of Heaven — migrate |
Gettin' sucked off’s my fate, nine outta ten people I hate |
There ain’t much that could make me barf, kid |
After livin' seven years in the Glenwood project |
Roach-infested apartment |
Genuine sicko, gore imperial |
By the time this message reaches you |
Millions of rappers will be corpse material |
Peep the murder story, me introducing ya circulatory to purgatory |
You shall be my slut forever curled |
In the corners of my netherworld; |
my dressed up in leather girl |
Cock back the hammer-on |
Brooklyn’s an amazon where niggas like Dapper Don |
In a coffin headed forever Abaddon |
Had to make me grab the burner, take two pulls, then mug |
Now ya full of slugs, full of drugs, pull the plug |
Can’t insult the cult and not expect a snuff bullet or stab |
Voodoo curse put on your life, inflicting disease in your flab |
Pull out on me — I’ll yank that shit from you and pistol whip you |
Violence always on a nigga mind when Mephisto is in you |
Marijuana shall be the end of me |
I’m practicin' balance walkin' on the castrated testicles |
Of my enemies |
Fuck the constitution! |
It ain’t about shit |
Stuck in court with no justice, while |
The judge rocks a grim reapers outfit |
Legal AIDS, the name fits 'em: these fucks are like legal diseases |
That do nothin' for you but hurt you in the system |
I received order of protection forms, the courts insist on 'em |
Them shits are yellow, but they’ll be yellow regardless |
After I piss on them |
But fuck that piranha known as your Honor |
It’d be my honor to dead him like Kurt Cobain from Nirvana |
Props to Yussie Rizo and all my loyal mental patients |
Try some pudding and vodka and Phenobarbital |
I hear it’s good |