Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Rapture, artist - Snowgoons. Album song The Best of Snowgoons, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.08.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
The Rapture |
Its Meth |
Murder music |
Its the lyrical genocide |
My men at war spread like pesticide |
Knocked on heavens door, beheaded and petrified |
Talk shit, get offed within the enterprise |
Step aside, I’mma let it fly like this set of knives |
Switch blade, carve 'em, said I couldn’t hang |
Because the colour of my skin, watch the skin hang off em |
I’m just stating facts its the serrated tongue with the jaded rap |
I traveled to hell with the best and made it back |
Take a bump from the sadist punk |
Tired of chasing drugs so drew an x through my wrist to mark the place to cut |
They found Meth as good as dead on the curb |
Shot up the wrong vein addictions really getting on my nerves |
Murder! |
Torture! |
Death! |
Pain! |
Off two hits of cocaine, I am killin' everythin'! |
This is |
Murder! |
Torture! |
Death! |
Pain! |
So what the game when I blow out your brains! |
Murder! |
Torture! |
Death! |
pain! |
Off two hits of cocaine, I am killin' everythin' |
This is |
Murder! |
Torture! |
Death! |
Pain! |
So what the game when I’m blowin' out your brains! |
You musta been smoking a boulder |
For fucking with a soldier that’s sicker then Ebola |
I roll up on the whole with a chainsaw |
Turned his little toddler to coleslaw |
Im gonna expose y’all |
Savagely swarm balls (?) |
I paint walls, leave ya crib the massacre color |
Lifting up this match just to blast whoever |
I sever heads from shoulders |
Don’t want a sword, put my hands around his neck till I snap their vocal cords |
Fuck your authority! |
I grab a weed brownie from Gordy |
And get to stomping niggas fast as sororities |
They either speaking under they breath |
Or ignoring me |
Cause bossing up get the ass stretched on a gurney |
Dressed in all black, Death attire |
I’m Michael Myers mix with Omar from The Wire |
Read the flyer, Bizarre performing live tonight |
Let me ask you a question, bitch you ready to fucking die tonight |
Two little boys, nine and eight |
Sodomized and raped |
Got em fucking scared straight |
Menace to society |
Without the grades |
I borrowed out the phase |
Mess with full blown AIDS |
Ten OC’s about to OD |
Beat your newborn up like the UFC |
I’m in Long Island hiding out |
Killer, murder, pain, that’s what Bizarre’s about |
Ayo a true lunatic |
Shoot the shit with the creep |
I’d rather off a beat a day than move a brick in a week |
Collision with me? |
Ill leave you to eternally bleeding |
Have you no longer walking and re-learning to read |
If we further from greed the dream turning to green |
Believe I keep murder between my shirt and my jeans |
You work for the clean and roam around the earth like a fiend |
I rep 9/12/82, the birth of a king |
And bring the verbal torture oughtta move with caution |
You’ll need help |
I breathe hell with D12 and leave welts with seat belts |
And rebound with brain manipulation from the nation of pain |
You wet like rain precipitation when you breaking the vein |