| Dead friends knocking on my window, huh
|
| God said my body is a temple, huh
|
| 22 pointed at my temple, huh
|
| Y’all don’t really know what I’ve been through, huh?
|
| Dead friends knocking on my window, huh
|
| God said my body is a temple, huh
|
| 22 pointed at my temple, huh
|
| Y’all don’t really know
|
| Underneath the dirt nothing’s sunny from a coffin
|
| Tongue spits shells leave you bloody like a shotgun
|
| Say you ain’t a faker but you funny when the cops come
|
| Say you chasing paper but that money’s made of cotton
|
| Sic em like cruise ships, Nikita Khruschev
|
| Cold wars getting so Ruthless, I’m nuisance
|
| Riveted by visions of you dead
|
| Get River Styx if you try to give me your two cents
|
| I am not alone I’m a loner, aye
|
| All your shit’s so mediocre, aye
|
| I don’t wanna pose for your photos too fake
|
| Fucking with a true blue great, new king
|
| Fills cuts with Vodka, puff the Blanka
|
| My cuts Baraka
|
| No one loved me til the crows above me
|
| Shed blood like Opera
|
| Dead friends knocking on my window, huh
|
| God said my body is a temple, huh
|
| 22 pointed at my temple, huh
|
| Y’all don’t really know what I’ve been through, huh?
|
| Dead friends knocking on my window, huh
|
| God said my body is a temple, huh
|
| 22 pointed at my temple, huh
|
| Y’all don’t really know
|
| Put a bullet in your brain that’ll open up your third eye
|
| Smoking on a strain til I’m floating where the birds fly
|
| Worm-like, searching through the dirt with a searchlight
|
| Showing off my fangs before they poke into the nerves like
|
| Live suicide on TV watch the anchor drop
|
| Head bang get Lethwei’d in your Angkor Wat
|
| Take your shot, let death take me I’m sanctified
|
| I prolly shouldn’t drive in this state of mind, huh?
|
| Lately I’m feeling off
|
| My face is still peeling off
|
| My brain is a cinder block
|
| Throw flames at your synagogue
|
| Miss me with your little quotes you misread
|
| Don’t mix me with the simple folks who misspeak
|
| A miscreant grows til his foes are mincemeat
|
| A rose still arose from six feet
|
| Yes I am evil. |
| Not a hundred percent, but I am evil
|
| Evil has always existed, the perfect world most people seek shall never come to
|
| pass. |
| We are all evil in some form or another. |
| Are we not?
|
| Dead friends knocking on my window, huh
|
| God said my body is a temple, huh
|
| 22 pointed at my temple, huh
|
| Y’all don’t really know what I’ve been through, huh?
|
| Dead friends knocking on my window, huh
|
| God said my body is a temple, huh
|
| 22 pointed at my temple, huh
|
| Y’all don’t really know |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Pet Sematary , by - Sadistik. Song from the album Delirium, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп