Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Walking Dead, artist - Ruste Juxx. Date of issue: 27.09.2012
Song language: English
The Walking Dead |
| It’s alive |
| The ill diabolical fiend this mad scientist |
| Killer cartel rule the land with an iron fist |
| Ruste Juxx I be spitting that |
| Body ill rapper, hommie watch who you gettin' at |
| Rap, the bold cat snap back |
| I hit you with a bat 'til you cap snap back |
| Fusion, knocking on them pearl gates |
| I’m organizing late, tune moves and early waits |
| For any high stepper tryin' to dance with the devil |
| Grave digger, stand over your corpse with a shovel |
| Dropping dirt on it, filling up and then unmount it |
| Building something on the lance, and now I gotta dig a mountain |
| Hood fella', I run for dinero |
| Too many lives lost for tryin' to be a hero |
| My patience is 0, I’m keepin' it a hundred |
| Everytime I have a fight in my life I never fronted |
| (Hook x2) |
| I’m the illest man walking |
| Night of the living dead, tomb stone pop pop |
| Got a price on my head, grave yard shipping |
| Gotta keep the monsters fed |
| Things that go bump in the night fool you scared |
| (Verse) |
| I spit a murder verse scary as I |
| The 31st house keepers street |
| We been enduring my dirty work |
| Marijuana spark up, playing that drum like Travis Barker |
| Fam' I will valet park ya |
| Take your keys and get that cake before you leave |
| Gun talk shooting the breeze, |
| I put a popper to your chopper drop a hundred MC’s |
| Heart in below, wanna spit the summer decrease |
| That mac wind made his hat spin |
| This is there’s a million mad men in my trash bin |
| So when I bucket you fast I say calm your friend lying |
| I call it muscle relaxer |
| There’s also violence in silence |
| We all get sleep, me home, you six feet deep |
| We all know a heavy hitter, who ever want it |
| Everytime I step to the plate, I never bun it |
| (Hook x2) |
| I’m the illest man walking |
| Night of the living dead, tomb stone pop pop |
| Got a price on my head, grave yard shipping |
| Gotta keep the monsters fed |
| Things that go bump in the night fool you scared |
| (Verse) |
| I’m a product of the projects, a menace to society |
| My conscience states pride, always put my greed pitch violently |
| Give me that, run that, kill me or I come back |
| Take em where I wanna take homie, I’m a scumbag |
| So disrespect, I know my parents taught me better than that |
| Buck up and keep me from my felony rap |
| Not talk about music that’s just felony rhyme |
| We stroll hard with the uzzi intercept the economy |
| Touch down, get down clown catch the ground |
| And I’m too broke to own a silencer homie this is loud |
| Matter of fact, definitly, make your ears ring |
| Crazy you can get shot and not feeling at first |
| It’s a weird thing pass out, wake up in the emergency room |
| With people you never met before nursing your wounds |
| Your little sister crying, doctors up and inserting the tube in your throat |
| Oh well nothing personal dude, illest to realest |
| (Hook x2) |
| I’m the illest man walking |
| Night of the living dead, tomb stone pop pop |
| Got a price on my head, grave yard shipping |
| Gotta keep the monsters fed |
| Things that go bump in the night fool you scared |