Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Metal Is Dead, artist - Stuck Mojo. Album song Southern Born Killers, in the genre Ню-метал
Date of issue: 31.07.2013
Record label: Napalm Records Handels
Song language: English
Metal Is Dead |
You took a hostage with a loaded gun |
And this has gone on for too long son |
You’re not an artist you’re just a clown |
You’re the circus when you’re in town |
You’ve caused a state of confusion |
Dumbed down the public and created an illusion |
A magician you sawed your girl in half |
You might have fooled the crowd |
But all I can do is ha ha ha ha ha ha ha |
Now I can go on for days and days |
I see right through like you were an x-ray |
Cracked up |
Smacked up |
You better back up I’m about to act up |
I’m jacked up |
You’ve got the gun |
And you’re killing everything I love |
You don’t respect it |
And what you are yeah I reject it |
You’re just a fashion show |
And you shit on everything I know |
And now I’m seeing red |
Cause you pulled the trigger |
And metal is dead |
Don’t need that four leaf clover |
Your fifteen minutes, Yeah it’s over |
But there’ll be more just like you |
Always following, thieving and borrowing |
Dying to find the formula |
Man you ain’t Freddy Krueger |
You’re just Count Chocula |
Silly rabbit this ain’t no trick |
Cause I walk the walk |
And your minute-made riffs |
They ride the dick |
Metal is dead! |
Where in the hell are my microphone fiends |
Those real MC’s who spit a hot sixteen |
Cause everything I’m hearing now sounds the same |
Can we please get variety back up in the game |
Everybody can’t be Tip or Jeezy |
Little John or Ludacris or Young Weezy |
Thugs selling drugs like it’s so easy |
Sounding weak wack corny and cheesy |
They rose lifeless in the shadows of greatness |
With vacant eyes they gorge blindly on their own flesh |
Making a mockery of the millions they would dare to lead |
Where once was passion Now only vanity and avarice dwell |
A puppet show whose masters devour their young with delight |
And even as they are ground in the mouths of their makers, they sing |
Songs that are as empty as their words |
As meaningless as their promises |
And as dead as their souls |