Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Who Goes There, artist - Rhyme Asylum. Album song Solitary Confinement, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.03.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Tunecore
Song language: English
Who Goes There |
Run, run, run, run |
Run, run, run, run… |
As fast as you can |
Fuck flame-throwers I throw flames from the napalm of my hand |
Don’t theorize I practise what I preach |
Bite the bullet as I catch ‘em in my teeth |
Intellectually God-like |
Second you step in my shadow, you developing frost-bite |
Head of a lost tribe, collect cyclops eyes |
Not right I haven’t entered your top five (What the fuck) |
Rub Lot’s wife in the wound |
Loose cannon, diss me you lighting the fuse |
As the bride and the groom tie the knot |
Wrap the rope round their throat and then tighten the noose |
There’s no appeasing my hunger |
Prometheus stole fire from Zeus I’m stealing his thunder |
If you can’t join ‘em beat ‘em |
From out this mouth of madness comes the voice of reason |
Who Goes There? |
It’s Possessed and I rep to the death of the underground |
Who Goes There? |
It’s Psiklone and I rep for the best in the underground |
Who Goes There? |
It’s Skirmish and I rep for the heads in the underground |
Who Goes There? |
It’s RA, RA, RA, RA, RA, |
Coming for blood no need ducking your punch |
Cos I’ll catch your thrown fist and crush your knuckles to dust |
Fucking with us you get impaled on a hook |
Got no leg to stand on, you shot yourself in the foot |
I’m mentally sick in the mind |
Tell the judge it ain’t me they just keep running into the knife |
A hired hit man scoping you |
With infa-red laser beams, lock load and shoot |
A secret society of a chosen few |
With home-made explosives in soles of shoes |
Scratching the flesh off of the back of my heads |
Where I want the barcode removed |
The lost twin of the son of Jor-El |
Bullets from loaded pistols couldn’t puncture my shell |
Nor exploding missiles never drew blood from myself |
RA put you under a spell |
I’m the genesis of metaphysics |
Never weak, I created god in less than 7 minutes |
RA stretch the limit |
Doctors are still counting my IQ’s never ending digits |
from barrels of gun smoke |
My poison pen’s ink is the blood of Marilyn Monroe |
License to drive you insane |
Never lost my voice, but sometimes it tries to escape |
Soul Reaver without a heart |
Premature, tore myself from the womb at spat out thousand bars |
Balthazar’s demonic counterpart |
Blowing marble temples down like a house of cards |
Bring your reinforcements |
A mind so great I’m trapped in this body like Steven Hawking |
Drawn by evil forces |
I’ve been to hell and back… and then collapsed from heat exhaustion |