| My ratchet exhales lead, cleaving, my hatchet’s leaving a trail of red
|
| Catching cerebrum from a detached female head
|
| Apache walking through the cornfield, I was born real
|
| Wielding a morning star, You’re left torn and peeled on the floor, kneeled
|
| Cold aggressor, buck the 3 pound off at you like Roth in Little Odessa
|
| Guillotine your crown off with a clothes dresser
|
| The Hades gatekeeper, Hatebreeder, breaking your face
|
| I’m blatantly crazier, straigh razor your trachea
|
| Pulp plops on your shirt, bloody red polka dots
|
| The unfed vulture plots murder, dead your folks while you watch
|
| Assasinated with acid, fascinated with drilling
|
| Lacerated you bastard, masturbated to killing
|
| Your fucking life X’d out, flexin' axe like Dexter
|
| Slash you with Plexiglas, black bury you like a texter
|
| Fuck what you’re selling, you’ll get bucked in your melon
|
| Metall pellets stuck in your cerebellum, once you’re abducted like Helen!
|
| Cut your head off, bust the lead off, now get off
|
| The dick money, you don’t know me, keep it moving homie
|
| The Godfathers' henchmen are drenched in your blood, did I mention?
|
| When G and Nec in the room, it’s High Tension!
|
| Killer team, guillotines and gallows
|
| 40 caliber, loaded with Calicos, on barrel and mallet mode
|
| Calluses of malice grow, Molotov bottle your ballad flow
|
| Death on a pale horse, the gallop slow
|
| Blade of my Excalibur glow like William Wallace
|
| Send your body off to med school for brilliant scholars
|
| We bout to stab 'em with 7 daggers like Damien
|
| Triple sixes when 3 biscuits empty out in your cranium
|
| Dark clouds and rainy wind, we aiming these 10's
|
| On dames and they men, leave 'em with flaming skin on they dainty limbs
|
| Front line gunners, we dump 9's in the fronters
|
| Son of Sam handguns, the grunt mind of a hunter
|
| Son, we Leatherface butchers in bloody aprons, blood he craving
|
| Muddy beige Timbs, put a rusty blade in that slut he chasing
|
| Tool shed tools, embedded inside her dude’s head
|
| No Vital Signs, this be the title up in the news spread |