Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Underground, artist - Necro. Album song I Need Drugs, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 29.06.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Psycho + Logical, Psycho+Logical
Song language: English
Underground |
I keep straining my ears to hear a sound |
Maybe someone is digging underground |
Or have they… |
Yo man Mother Fuckers are clowns man; |
Hip-hop's too nice |
It’s too pretty |
What are you gonna do to it Necro? |
Take a razor, and slice it! |
Yo peep this shit like this |
Kill the head kill the body and knows who i’ma ruin |
When I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds |
I’m rolling a fatty like death is coming believe it Recognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you’re receiving |
Brain washing has officially begun |
Kid you peep a psycho holding a butcher knife dancing like reruns |
It’s raining, as God pisses on earth |
I drop bile like a vagina dismisses on birth |
Devour my shower that’s golden |
I’m puffing the sacks golden |
Smolden the flesh that holding the fresh cancer infested colon |
How can I make my point to you fools? |
I’ll drop a dead A&R off a roof and on his chest it says Necro rules |
I’m a blow the constitution |
My shit stays bubbled like light burned flesh |
My rhymes are acid in Clorox solution |
Your eyes are blinded once the acid hits |
You’ll be blinded like Rosie O’Donnell jumped up 10 feet in the air and |
flashed her tits |
Life is shady G In 1976 my parents created me |
I’ve been flipping since 1983 |
I always took pain as a game |
When I was 6 I cracked my head open and looked in the mirror to see my brain |
Wonder why I’m like an icicle? |
At 5 I was hit by a car riding my tricycle |
A hit and run son |
Mad young in the hospital receiving stitches |
Making me vicious |
Peeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious |
Running through glen in PJ’s as a young buck |
I didn’t dance that fresh I burnt ants to death. |
Taste me you will see more is all you need dedicated to how I’m killing you |
You’re unhealthy your a felon PO checks your Bladder |
You’re an addict; |
if you beat me I’ll deliver you dead on a platter |
The customer’s always right but this time the customers left |
On a stretcher gasping for breath |
Cipher flows like rolly polly |
Kill yourself slowly plus you’re already dead if you’re homely |
So bitch, there’s a little red dot on your skull so pray |
Most of New York’s population is filled with metal patients |
Pretending to be normal, pretending to be mental patients |
Got them raping by the pile |
Watch out for goons of bile infested with smiles and dreams of molesting |
your child |
You got a black glock with the extra clip when shit is thick |
You gotta punch a kid dead in the nose if he ever tries to front and dis |
You need to puff a bag of dro’s when listening to brutal shit like this |
You gotta rock a lambskin with the spermicidal for a nasty bitch |
Make sure your girl’s syphilis is clean before I slide my tongue up And I, don’t you dare ruin my dinner |
My ventriloquism hits you like ism |
Sprayed with raid mixed with prism mixed blades butcher with sadism |
I rip your gat when I twist my wrists |
1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fist’s |
Rammed up your wife’s ass gets murdered type fast |
Blast scum up your BC masks |
And dirty flash pipes flash |
Pulling and coming in side like sluts like Kimberly Drumming |
You know the steez, I slay my prey |
Day by Day |
Kill yourself, on some euthanasia shit |
Rocking Tim’s on razor on the tip |
Today’s the day to flip on a decapitation tip |
I’m fascinated with |
Leaving you lacerated split on point like an assassination hit your not |
Some one to have patients with |
I’m better off |
Letting off |
Two clips at you face set it off |
To decide is better off |
Dead it off |
Inject 'till you feel correct |
Feel the effects of my hex |
Force you to have sex with techs |
Chopped at funeral next |
Buy my poison I got triple six in my beeper |
I talk to my self cause giving my own self therapy is cheaper |
The violence hits you like a spliff spreading some holy pop |
Penetrate your skull like an obituary slowly we ride |
You’ll soon be fractions and numerators |
Of a denominator when I play dominator |
When you’re dead with brains and bomb grenades |
Keeping Vietnam through Vader |
Futuristic butcher CD bomb cremator |
Your spine cracks in 3 D like Imax |
You won’t be superman no more feel the pain climax |
No Anastasia, even if the doctor takes some codeine and combines crack |
Fine pack mixed with foible boatel liquid |
And a razor blade dime sack |
Nothing numbs like your future thumbs |
I threw you in a wheel chair your a plumb |
A pebble, a worm, a snail |
I’ll be a metal patient with a red apple on thorosime when you inhale |
Uhhhhh Uhhhhhh Uhhhhhh |
Another blunt filled with dust |
And another blunt filled |
And another blunt filled |
And another blunt filled with dust |
Last week someone tried to put me in a coffin |
That’s the second time a nigger tried to kill me I’m starting to feel |
important |
For some cats smile |
Ain’t their style |
But there’s something so evil |
About seeing a murderous smile with vile |
Gore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide is a laxative |
It will eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident |
I mean line to main-tain I’m fighting the biggest fight in my life |
You got a black glock with the extra clip when shit gets thick |
You gotta punch a kid dead in the nose if he ever tries to front and dis |
You need to puff a bag of drones when listening to brutal shit like this |
You gotta rock a lambskin with the spermacide for a nasty bitch |
You fucking dirt bags |
Repeat till fade |
I keep straining my ears to hear a sound |
Maybe someone is digging underground |